m&mMMmmmmm^mmm 


''}i^'mumm 


''•/ 


PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


BY    THE    HEIRS    OF    THE    LATE 


professor  t)enrs  vlarrlnaton  BlcianOec,  W.1S>„  %%.JS>. 

BX  9225  .S26  D3  1855 
Dabney,  Robert  Lewis,  1820-1 

1898. 
A  memorial  of  the  Christian 


/'>W     %i^^'     ^^'  c^U^ca/  .v^^W-, 


A  MEMORIAL 


CHRISTIAN  LIFE  AID  CHARACTER 


OF 


FEANCIS  S.  ^MPSON,  D.  D. 


BY  ROBERT  L.  DABNEY,  D.  D. 


Eicl^monb,  l)a. 

ENQUIRER  BOOK  AND  JOB  PRESS. 
1855. 


PREFACE. 


The  board  of  directors  of  Union  Seminary,  at  their 
annual  meeting  after  the  death  of  Dr.  Sampson,  deter- 
mined that  it  was  proper  to  present  to  the  churches, 
his  brethren,  and  former  pupils,  some  memorial  of  his 
christian  and  professional  character.  They  requested 
me  to  prepare  such  a  sketch ;  and  this  little  volume  is 
the  result.  So  far  as  a  full  and  intimate  acquaintance 
with  his  life,  first  as  a  pupil,  and  then  as  a  colleague, 
can  qualify  one  for  such  a  task,  that  qualification  I 
possess.  And  if  an  ardent  personal  attachment  unfits 
one  to  draw  the  character  of  its  object  impartially,  I 
must  confess  to  this  disqualification.  It  is  for  those 
who  knew  Dr.  Sampson  as  well  as  I  did,  to  judge 
whether  the  portraiture  is  accurate.  I  can  express  no 
better  wish  towards  all  his  brethren  and  former  pupils, 
than  that  the  reading  of  this  humble  tribute  to  their 
lost  friend,  may  give  them  the  same  mournful  delight, 
and  the  same  elevating  and  purifying  lessons,  which 
its  preparation  has  given  me.  It  is  now  affectionately 
dedicated  to  the  Alumni  of  Unio?i  Theological  Seinitmry, 


IV  PREFACE. 

to  the  candidates  for  the  ministry,  and  to  the  christian 
young  men  of  the  Synods  of  North  Carolina  and  Virginia. 
A  life,  spent,  like  Dr.  Sampson's,  far  from  the 
stormier  scenes  of  the  world,  amidst  scholastic  shades, 
offers  little  material  for  narrative.  I  have,  therefore, 
only  attempted,  after  giving  a  brief  outline  of  his  un- 
eventful life,  to  unfold  the  nature  of  his  work  and  his 
character,  and  to  indicate  some  of  those  lessons  which 
they  teach  us.  The  community  is  so  familiar  with 
the  best  models  of  christian  correspondence  and  diary, 
that  it  was  thought  best  not  to  introduce  such  mate- 
rial into  this  sketch.  But  a  few  sermons  have  been 
selected,  and  appended  to  the  narrative,  because  it 
was  thought  desirable  that  the  reader  should  possess 
some  more  extended  specimens  of  Dr.  Sampson's 
method,  and  because  it  was  believed  that  many  who 
once  heard  them  from  his  glowing  lips,  will  rejoice  to 
revive,  by  their  perusal,  the  recollections  of  those 
seasons. 

Robert  L.  Dabney. 

Union  Theological  Seminary,  Va. 

May  28th,  1855. 


TABLE    OF   CONTENTS. 


Introductory  Outline,  -  -  -      vii-viii 

Ch.  1. — Person  and  Constitution.  Dignity  and  Courtesy  of 
Manner.  Early  Habits  and  Maxims.  Influence  of 
Example  in  a  Different  Sphere,  -  -  1-3 

Ch.  2.— Enters  Rev.  Thornton  Eogers'  School.  Keligious 
Impressions,  Decision.  Personal  Covenant.  Di- 
ary. University  of  Virginia.  Christian  Activity 
there.  Dr.  "White's  Testimony.  Goes  to  Union 
Theological  Seminary.  Zeal.  Devotional  Spirit. 
Humility.    Liberality.        .  -  -  4-28 

Ch.  3. — Dr.  Sampson  as  a  Student.  Wise  and  Resolute  Plan. 
Thoroughness.  Intense  Application.  His  Scolar- 
ship — its  Range  and  Accuracy.  .  -        29-32 

Ch.  4. — Characteristics  as  a  Teacher.  Tact.  Vivacity. 
Earnestness.  Patience-  Intercourse  with  Pupils. 
Hebrew  Prelections.  -  -  -        33-37 

Ch.  5. — Dr.  Sampson  as  a  Preacher.  Simplicity  of  Spirit. 
Logical  Arrangement.  Elevation  of  Thought. 
Steadily  advancing  Reputation.  Lesson  of  En- 
couragement to  young  Divines.  -  -        38-41 

Ch.  6.— Intellectual  Traits.  Genius  and  Talent.  Symmetry. 
Analytic  Faculty.  Imagination.  Memory.  Can- 
did Estimate  of  his  Powers.  -  -        42-45 

Ch.  7. — Failure  of  Health.  Fluctuations  of  Disease.  Flat- 
tering Hopes.  Increased  Diligence.  Dr.  Samp- 
son's last  Sermon.  Final  Attack.  Concern  of  the 
whole  Community.  Prayer  in  Presbytery.  Dying 
Exercises.        ...  -        46-54 

Ch.  8. — Practical  Teachings  of  such  a  Life.  Reward  of  Pa- 
tience and  Faith.  Humility  crowned  with  Honor. 
The  Price  of  great  Usefulness.  Home  Institutions 
must  be  sustained.  Men  of  deep  toned  Piety  and 
profound  Scholarship  demanded,  -  -        55-65 

Sermon     I,  ....       69-87 

n,  ....      88-103 

m,  ....    104-122 


INTRODUCTORY  OUTLINE. 


Dr.  Sampson  was  the  son  of  Mr.  Richard  Sampson, 
an  eminent  and  respected  agriculturist  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Dover  Mills,  in  the  county  of  Gooch- 
land. He  was  born  between  the  1st  and  5th  of 
November  A.  D.  1814.  In  1830,  he  was  placed  at 
the  school,  and  in  the  family  of  that  man  of  God, 
Eev.  Thornton  Rogers  of  Albemarle,  who  was  his 
maternal  uncle.  Here  he  made  a  profession  of  re- 
ligion, was  baptized,  and  became  a  member  of  the 
Presbyterian  church  in  Charlottesville,  then  in  charge 
of  Rev.  Francis  Bowman,  on  the  13th  of  August 
1831.  The  10th  of  September  of  the  same  year,  he 
entered  the  University  of  Virginia,  and  continued  his 
studies  there  till  July  1836,  taking  a  very  extensive 
and  thorough  course  of  study,  not  only  in  the  acade- 
mic departments,  but  in  the  schools  of  junior  law, 
anatomy  and  physiology,  and  securing  the  degree  of 
M.  A.  which  was  then,  as  now,  attained  by  very  few. 
November  9th,  1836,  he  entered  Union  Theological 
Seminary,  Va.  On  the  resignation  of  Professor  Bal- 
lantine,  in  the  spring  of  1838,  he  was  made  teacher 
of  Hebrew,  and  from  that  time  continued  to  perform 
other  duties  of  the  oriental  department.  He  was 
licensed  by  East  Hanover  Presbytery  in  October  1839, 
and  ordained  as  an  evangelist  by  the  same  Presbytery 


Vlll  INTRODUCTORY   OUTLINE. 

in  October  1S41.  In  July  1S4S  he  took  a  journey  to 
Europe,  for  the  prosecution  of  his  oriental  studies, 
and  returned  in  August  1849,  having  spent  the  year 
chiefly  at  the  Universities  of  Halle  and  Berlin.  In 
October  1848,  he  was  elected  professor  of  oriental 
literature  and  languages  in  the  Seminary ;  but  he  had 
for  many  years  performed  the  work  of  a  full  professor, 
though  with  the  title  and  compensation  of  an  assist- 
ant, and  had  long  been  esteemed  as  second  to  none  of 
his  colleagues  in  the  value  of  his  labors.  About  the 
time  of  his  return  from  Germany,  he  also  received 
tlie  honorary  degree  of  D.  D.  from  Hampden  Sidney 
college.  He  fell  asleep  Sabbath,  the  9th  of  April 
1654,  only  thirty-nine  years  and  five  months  old. 

Thus  brief  and  uneventful  is  the  record  of  his  life, 
which  was  passed  almost  wholly  in  the  quiet  shades 
of  colleges.  But  the  results  of  this  life  have  not 
therefore  been  unimportant.  The  attempt  will  be 
made  to  draw  the  features  of  his  character  as  a  chris- 
tian and  christian  minister,  a  scholar  and  an  instructor, 
in  order  that  we  may  praise  God  for  his  grace  mani- 
fested in  him,  and  may  receive  the  advantages  of  an 
example  most  modest,  and  yd  illustrious. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Person  and  Constitution.      Dignity  and  Courtesy  of  Manner.     Early 
Habits  and  Maxims.    Influence  of  Example  in  a  DiiFerent  Sphere. 

Dr.  Sampson  was  in  person  light  and  graceful,  and 
of  a  florid  complexion.  Although  his  family  has 
shown  pulmonary  tendencies  in  several  of  its  mem- 
bers, and  his  own  lungs  were  ultimately  much  im- 
paired in  their  soundness,  for  the  first  thirty  years  of 
his  life  he  enjoyed,  by  virtue  of  great  temperance^ 
most  uniform  health,  and  endured  an  immense  amount 
of  severe  study.  After  he  reached  that  age,  he  was 
gradually  broken  down  by  several  attacks  of  acute 
disease,  and  though  his  liealth  gave  a  delusive  promise 
of  restoration  the  last  year  of  his  life,  he  finally  fell 
before  a  short  and  violent  attack  of  pneumonia. 

His  personal  habits,  as  to  diet,  sleep  and  recreation, 
were  simple,  methodical  and  temperate,  without  being 
ascetic.  His  dress  was  scrupulously  neat  and  ap- 
propriate, without  the  faintest  approach  to  display. 
In  his  approaches  to  his  fellow  men  there  was  the 
happiest  union  of  unaffected  modesty  and  graceful 
quietude  with  christian  dignity.  Yet  his  was  a  dig- 
nity which  repelled  no  advances  of  affection  or  confi- 
dence, nor  anything  but  impertinence.      His  friends 

1 


2  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

who  most  desired  to  see  him  shine  in  society  as  his 
solid  worth  entitled  him,  sometimes  accounted  him 
too  modest.  Yet,  with  a  modesty  which  almost 
amounted  to  diffidence,  he  was  the  farthest  of  all 
men  from  a  timid  or  truckling  expression  of  his 
opinions.  When  an  erroneous  sentiment  which  he 
conceived  to  be  of  any  importance  was  thrust  upon 
him  in  conversation,  he  most  distinctly  defended  his 
own  opinion,  with  a  singular  union  of  inflexible, 
even  impracticable  mental  honesty  and  courteous  de- 
ference. He  was  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  be 
wheedled  into  the  softening  of  a  truth  down,  or  the 
admission  of  a  faint  shade  of  the  error  he  liad  been 
opposing,  by  any  of  the  blandishments  of  politeness, 
or  by  the  fear  of  seeming  too  pertinacious.  Much  of 
the  singular  amiability  of  his  social  character  is  no 
doubt  to  be  attributed  to  the  influence  of  grace.  Had 
he  grown  up  unconverted,  he  would  h^ve  been  known 
as  a  man  of  high  and  determined  temper,  of  energetic 
will,  and  persevering  activity.  Divine  grace  softened 
what  was  violent,  and  refined  what  was  valuable  in 
this  temperament,  until  the  result  was  a  rare  and 
lovely  union  of  the  strong  and  the  sweet. 

One  of  Dr.  Sampson's  most  striking  and  valuable 
natural  traits  was  his  methodical  industry.  To  any 
one  who  knows  his  ancestry,  it  is  ver\  plain  that  this 
quality  was  received  from  them,  both  by  inheritance 
and  inculcation.  That  whatever  is  worth  doing,  is 
worth  doing  well ;  that  each  task  must  be  done  with 
one's  might,  in  just  so  much  time  as  is  needed  to  do 
it  perfectly,  and  no  more;  that  no  task  is  to  be  left 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  3 

till  all  is  perfected  which  can  be  done  to  advantage; 
these  were  the  rules  of  working  which  he  carried 
with  him  from  the  home  of  his  boyhood  to  the  school, 
the  university,  the  study,  the  lecture  room.  The 
same  thoroughness,  the  same  deep  ploughing,  the 
same  complete  harrowing,  the  same  utter  extirpation 
of  obstructions,  the  same  perfect  finish  which  cha- 
racterized the  farm  of  his  father,  prevailed  in  his 
scholarship  and  instructions.  It  would  be  hard  to 
estimate  how  much  of  his  usefulness  and  ability  was 
due  to  the  example  and  habits  thus  impressed  on  his 
youth.  And  we  cannot  but  admire  the  wisdom  of 
Providence  in  training,  on  such  a  field  and  by  agen- 
cies so  unconscious  of  the  divine  purposes,  a  quality 
which  was  afterwards  to  do  so  much  good  in  a  higher 
and  nobler  sphere  of  duty.  Dr.  Sampson,  the  emi- 
nent hebraist,  the  profound  expositor,  the  masterly 
instructor,  was  but  the  far-seeing,  energetic,  able  far- 
mer reproduced  ou  another  field  of  action. 


CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 


CHAPTER    II. 

Enters  Eev.  Thornton  Rogers'  School.  Eeligious  Impressions.  De- 
cision. Personal  Covenant.  Diary.  University  of  Virginia.  Chris- 
tian Activity  there.  Dr.  White's  Testimony.  Goes  to  Union  Theo- 
logical Seminary.    Zeal.    Devotional  Spirit.     Humility.     Liberality. 

We  cannot  proceed  farther,  without  attempting  to 
draw  his  christian  character.  This  was  in  several 
respects  singular:  but  in  most,  singularly  excellent. 
The  neighborhood  in  which  he  grew  up,  was  very  irre- 
gularly supplied  with  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,  and 
was  wholly  unblessed  with  a  sound  pastoral  influence. 
Consequently,  domestic  religion  and  pious  training 
were  nearly  unknown.  From  a  brief  diary  which 
Dr.  Sampson  kept  during  a  part  of  the  session  of 
1833-4,  we  learn  that  when  he  went  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Rogers'  school,  he  did  not  possess  a  Bible  of  his  own, 
and  had  never  read  more  than  very  limited  portions  of 
it  in  his  life.  His  character  was  wholly  irreligious ; 
and  he  was  given  to  all  the  light  and  corrupting 
amusements  of  fashionable  young  persons.  But  he 
tells  us,  that  the  only  outbreaking  vice  in  which  he 
indulged,  was  profane  swearing;  and  this  he  con- 
tracted at  the  age  of  twelve,  from  vexation  in  a  game 
of  whist,  in  which  he  had  an  unusually  bad  hand. 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.   D.  5 

With  such  a  character,  he  found  himself  in  a  new 
world,  in  the  well-ordered,  christian  family  of  his  un- 
cle. There  the  word  of  God  was  daily  read,  and  his 
name  reverently  worshipped  in  the  family.  Although 
little  personal  exhortation  was  addressed  to  him  con- 
cerning his  sins  and  impenitence,  he  saw  daily  illus- 
trations of  the  excellence  and  peace  of  christian  prin- 
ciples, in  the  harmonious  happiness  of  a  pious  house, 
where  "  brethren  dwelt  together  in  unity  ;"  and  above 
all,  where  the  beauty  of  holiness  shone  from  the  exam- 
ple of  the  godly  father,  as  he  presided  in  the  family  and 
school  room.  In  consequence  chiefly  of  these  silent 
teachings,  he  gradually  fell  into  a  state  of  profound 
religious  concern,  which  continued  about  twelve 
months.  His  feelings  were  studiously  concealed  from 
all,  through  fear  of  ridicule ;  and  the  love  of  sin  led 
him  to  put  forth  many  and  bitter  struggles  against  the 
Spirit.  But  the  God  who  loved  him  would  not  let 
him  go ;  and  his  convictions  were  from  time  to  time 
strengthened.  In  the  spring  of  1831,  he  chanced  to 
hear  a  sermon  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Staunton,  then  of 
Prince  Edward,  from  the  text,  "  Secret  things  belong 
unto  the  Lord  thy  God,"  which  was  the  means  of 
sweeping  away  all  his  objections  and  excuses.  His 
convictions  now  became  so  pungent  that  they  com- 
pelled him  to  an  outward  reform  of  his  life,  and  to  set 
about  seeking  a  present  Saviour  in  earnest.  But  the 
fear  of  reproach  and  love  of  sin  still  made  desperate 
struggles.  On  one  occasion,  while  several  of  his 
school  fellows  were  engaged  with  him  in  a  game  of 
marbles,  one  of    them   sneeringly  observed,  *'  Frank 


6  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

must  be  getting  pious.  Do  you  notice,  boys,  that  lie 
has  not  been  heard  to  swear  for  a  fortnight  ?"  This 
taunt  stung  him  to  the  quick ;  and  to  show  that  he 
was  not  justly  liable  to  their  insinuation,  he  took  the 
very  first  plausible  occasion  to  throw  out  a  most  pro- 
fane oath  !  But  this  heaven-daring  act  was  made  the 
crisis  of  his  rebellion.  For,  his  remorse,  alarm  of  con- 
science, and  fear  of  having  grieved  the  Holy  Spirit,  to- 
gether with  his  convictions  of  the  corruption  of  his 
nature,  and  impotence  of  his  own  resolutions  for  piety 
became  immediately  so  agonizing,  that  he  was  com- 
pelled to  retire,  and  cast  himself  at  once  upon  the  Sa- 
viour's mercy.  From  this  hour,  his  soul  seems  to  have 
been  built  upon  the  rock  Christ  Jesus ;  and  his  face 
was  turned  decisively  heavenward.  He  now  first  di- 
vulged his  religious  feelings  to  his  uncle,  in  a  letter 
which  he  handed  him  without  seal  or  signature,  and 
which  detailed  his  struggles,  his  ignorance,  his  deci- 
sion to  be  on  the  Lord's  side,  and  his  dawning  peace. 
Mr.  Rogers  had  often  made  his  salvation  the  subject 
of  his  secret  wrestling  with  God.  But  so  complete 
had  been  the  concealment  of  Dr.  Sampson's  convic- 
tions, that  his  uncle  was  at  this  very  time  almost  in 
despair  of  his  conversion.  And  though  Dr.  Sampson 
had  ever  been  docile  and  industrious  in  everything 
else,  so  impressed  was  his  uncle  with  the  evil  influence 
which  his  profanity  might  exert  in  his  family,  that  he 
had  seriously  considered  the  best  means  of  removing 
him.  As  he  was  the  son  of  a  beloved  sister,  he  had 
seriously  thought  of  disbanding  his  school  for  a  time, 
as  the  least  painful  mode  of  securing  this  end.     In- 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  7 

deed,  he  had  only  been  deterred  by  intercessions  of 
others,  from  carrying  this  purpose  into  effect.  How 
delightful,  then,  must  have  been  the  surprise  with 
which  he  received  this  letter,  telling  him  that  the 
great  work  had  gone  on  so  far  under  ground  ?  This 
curious  incident  may  carry  home  two  truths  to  us, 
"  That  we  should  not  be  weary  in  well  doing ;  for  in 
due  season  we  shall  reap  if  we  faint  not ;"  and  that 
much  of  the  seed  of  truth  which  we  sow  is  often  lost, 
or  smothered,  for  want  of  more  constant  and  tender 
nursing. 

But  Dr.  Sampson  w^as  more  the  spiritual  child  of 
the  Rev.  Thornton  Rogers,  than  of  any  other  person. 
He  has  often  said  that  the  means  which  efficaciously 
awakened  him  out  of  death  in  trespasses  and  sins, 
was  not  so  much  any  particular  sermon  or  warning,  as 
the  holy  and  consistejit  life  of  his  uncle.  This  was  to 
him  the  sermon,  the  rebuke,  the  "living  epistle," 
which  revealed  to  him  his  spiritual  necessities. 

No  man  since  the  Apostle  Paul  could  use  more 
truthfully  his  language,  "  When  it  pleased  God  who 
separated  me  from  my  mother's  womb,  and  called  me 
by  liis  grace,  to  reveal  his  Son  in  me,  immediately  I 
conferred  not  with  flesh  and  blood."  Dr.  Sampson 
was  about  to  leave  his  uncle's  roof,  v^^here  alone  he 
could  expect  to  find  any  religious  sympathy  among  his 
own  friends,  to  return  for  a  few  weeks  to  his  native 
neighborhood,  in  which  every  affectionate  attention  of 
his  relatives  would  be  a  temptation,  and  where  there 
were  no  sanctuary  privileges  nor  christian  communings 


8  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

to  help  him  on  his  way.  Thence  he  was  to  go,  in  the 
early  autumn,  to  the  University  of  Virginia — an  insti- 
tution opened  only  six  years  before  under  infidel  aus- 
pices, without  prayers,  chaplain,  Bible  class,  Sabbath 
school — yea,  we  may  say,  without  Sabbath ;  so  that 
almost  all  godly  parents  kept  their  sons  away  from  it 
with  a  pious  dread  ;  and  vital  religion  was  nearly  un- 
known among  its  students. 

We  have  seen  the  strong  and  almost  fatal  hold 
which  the  fear  of  ridicule  had  on  his  natural  heart. 
Yet,  from  the  moment  his  stand  was  taken,  although 
but  a  youth  of  sixteen,  fear  was  at  an  end.  A  cou- 
rage more  fixed  than  that  of  man,  had  taken  possession 
of  his  breast.  One  of  his  first  acts  after  confessing 
Christ,  was  to  prepare  a  written  address  to  his  school 
mates,  intended  for  the  close  of  the  session,  in  which 
he  urges  upon  them  the  claims  of  Christianity.  These 
were  the  same  school  mates,  whose  ridicule  had  a  little 
before  almost  driven  him  to  reject  the  Holy  Ghost! 
In  this  address,  he  discusses  the  following  causes, 
which  induce  irreligious  men  to  postpone  attention  to 
the  Gospel :  "An  unwarranted  dependence  on  the  ge- 
neral mercy  of  God  ;  objections  to  the  incomprehen- 
sible mysteries  contained  in  the  Bible ;  and  especially, 
the  incomprehensibility  of  the  doctrine  of  a  Trinity ; 
cavils  against  the  number  of  sects  into  which  chris- 
tians are  divided,  and  their  bickerings ;  and  skeptical 
doubts  of  the  truth  of  the  Scriptures."  These  points 
are  discussed,  without  striking  originality  indeed,  but 
with  a  distinctness  of  thought,  order  and  justice,  most 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  9 

remarkable  in  a  school  boy :  and  the  temper  of  the 
address  is  marked  by  a  happy  union  of  christian  bold- 
ness and  affection. 

The  same  decision  of  religions  character  marked  all 
his  christian  course.  His  religion  was  now  every- 
thing. His  Bible  was  almost  his  only  companion, 
among  hooks.  The  fact  that  he  learned  so  little  of 
Christianity  through  the  colored  and  somewhat  dis- 
torted medium,  in  which  it  is  presented  by  the  pre- 
scriptive religious  habits  and  expressions  of  even  good 
people,  but  drew  his  religious  ideas  direct  from  the 
Word  of  God,  under  the  teachings  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
may  account  for  much  of  the  excellence  and  symme- 
try of  his  religious  character.  In  all  his  intercourse 
with  relatives  and  associates,  in  his  amusements  and 
devotions,  in  everything,  the  desire  to  please  God  was 
uppermost. 

There  yet  exists  a  correspondence  of  considerable 
bulk,  extending  through  the  five  years  of  his  Univer- 
sity course,  and  later,  with  two  favorite  female  cou- 
sins. In  these  letters,  the  desire  to  benefit  their  souls 
and  his  own,  is  ever  the  prominent,  almost  the  sole 
concern.  The  great  topic  is  approached  at  once,  with- 
out squeamish  circumlocutions,  but  with  affectionate 
dignity  and  delicacy.  His  correspondents  are  continu- 
ally reminded,  that  the  chief  aim  and  glory  of  a  chris- 
tian friendship  should  be,  to  give  and  receive  edifica- 
tion, by  the  interchange  of  experiences  and  advice. 
He  has  no  news  or  gossip  to  detail.  Even  from  the 
first  year  of  his  christian  life,  these  letters  show  a 
depth  of  experience  and  a  range  and  fullness  of  chris- 

2 


10  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

tian  knowledge,  such  as  we  would  expect  from  a  ma- 
ture saint.  From  them  and  his  brief  diary,  we  learn 
with  what  punctuality  and  solemn  diligence  he  en- 
gaged in  the  study  of  God's  Word,  searching  his  own 
heart,  and  secret  prayer,  as  the  first  great  business  of 
each  day. 

We  learn  he  declined  living  with  a  room  mate  dnrina: 
his  second  session,  because  his  room  mate  the  previous 
session,  though  amiable  and  moral,  was  unconverted; 
and  his  presence  robbed  him  of  his  regular  hours  for 
secret  devotion.  In  this  exigency  he  was  accustomed 
to  resort  to  a  wooded  mountain  hard  by,  for  commu- 
nion with  God.  And  when,  at  the  beginning  of  his 
third  session,  he  received  into  his  room  a  young  gen- 
tleman like-minded  to  himself,  who  afterwards  became 
a  most  intimate  christian  friend,  an  arrangement  was 
made  for  retirement,  as  well  as  daily  social  prayer. 
From  this  friend  we  learn  that  when  the  hour  of  se- 
cret prayer  found  him  languid  and  indisposed  to  devo- 
tion, instead  of  making  such  a  state  a  pretext  for  the 
postponement  of  the  duty,  he  found  in  it  a  powerful 
motive  for  its  more  diligent  performance.  However 
fatigued  or  overworked,  he  would  take  his  Bible  and 
read  and  meditate  till  he  could  bo\v  his  knees  in  the 
proper  frame,  saying  that  this  languor  and  coldness 
were  the  very  evidences  that  he  needed  fervent  prayer 
at  that  special  time. 

The  first  of  January  1S34,  he  held  a  solemn  review 
of  the  past  year,  and  the  state  of  his  soul,  and  entered 
into  a  formal  written  covenant,  to  v/liich  his  name  is 
attached,  engaging,  with  divine  assistance,  to  live  a  life 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  11 

of  entire  devotion.  The  form  of  covenant  is  marked 
as  a  quotation.  Although  conceived  very  much  in  the 
terras  of  the  one  given  in  Doddridge's  Eise  and  Pro- 
gress, for  the  young  christian  covenanting  wnth  God,  it 
is  not  copied  thence;  and  the  source  from  which  it  was 
taken  is  not  known.  Perhaps  it  is  enough  to  say  that 
it  is  couched  in  terms  of  most  devout  and  humble  con- 
fession, ardent  breathings  after  holiness,  and  adoring 
reverence  of  the  divine  perfections.  Though  the  sub- 
sequent diary  shows  that  those  alternations  of  strength 
and  weakness,  joy  and  sorrow,  were  not  w^iolly  un- 
known to  him,  which  are  found  in  the  experience  of 
all  eminent  saints,  yet  this  era  was  no  doubt  a  new 
starting  point  to  his  soul  in  its  religious  race. 

It  is  a  characteristic  fact  that  this  diary,  after  having 
been  punctually  kept  for  several  months,  was  discon- 
tinued. The  ground  assigned  at  its  close  was,  that  he 
began  to  suspect  himself  of  coloring  the  statements  of 
his  feelings,  from  an  involuntary  reference  to  their 
being  some  day  seen  by  others,  and  he  feared  that 
thus  bis  christian  sincerity  might  be  corrupted ! 

Such  holy  diligence  in  prayer,  such  singleness  of 
aim  and  such  watchfulness,  could  not  fail  of  their  re- 
ward. He  seems  to  have  lived  in  the  habitual  exercise 
of  religious  joy;  and  often  his  soul  mounted  up  with 
wings  like  eagles.  It  is  believed  that  from  his  conver- 
sion to  the  day  of  his  death,  no  serious  cloud  ever 
overshadowed  his  assurance.  He  lived  continually 
under  the  peaceful  light  of  a  sure  hope !  Hov/  fully 
was  the  truth  verified,  in  his  christian  courage,  consis- 


12  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

tency  and  intense  activity  for  God,  "  The  joy  of  the 
Lord  is  your  strength  ?" 

•  His  position  as  a  pious  student  among  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thoughtless  young  men,  gave  ample  occasion 
to  illustrate  his  christian  decision.  But  yet,  this  qua- 
lity was  so  admirably  tempered  with  modesty  and 
kindness,  that  it  secured,  instead  of  enmity,  almost 
universal  respect.  His  manner  was  quiet,  simple,  and 
unobtrusive.  His  religion  was  never  thrust  upon  the 
notice  of  any  one ;  but  when  any  assault  was  made 
upon  his  principles,  they  were  found  immovable.  He 
was  obliging  to  all,  even  to  the  profane,  wherever  the 
sacrifice  of  conscience  was  not  asked  for.  So  kindly 
and  unpharisaic  was  his  demeanor,  that  many,  then 
entirely  irreligious,  became  warmly  attached  to  him, 
and  his  usual  college  name  was  "  Neighbor  Sampson." 
Yet,  so  sincere  was  the  respect  for  his  principles,  a 
thoughtless  and  profane  student  was  heard  once  to  re- 
mark, "  I  cnnH  swear  before  Neighbor  Sampson ;" 
adding  that  there  was  no  other  christian  student  in  the 
University  to  whom  he  would  pay  the  tribute  of  such 
a  self  restraint.  It  is  doubted  whether  a  single  taint, 
or  one  word  disrespectful  to  his  religion,  was  ever 
offered  him  with  malicious  intent  among  all  the  hun- 
dreds of  ungodly  young  men  by  whom  he  was  sur- 
rounded. 

Let  this  be  an  effectual  lesson  to  every  young  per- 
son, who  shall  read  the  character  of  this  man  of  God, 
never  more  to  be  held  in  bondage  by  the  fear  of  re- 
proach or  ridicule.     An  honest,  christian  courage  com- 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  13 

Fiiands  the  involuntary  homage  of  the  worst.  It  is 
weakness  and  inconsistency  which  provoke  the  gibe 
and  sneer.  Dr.  Sampson  was  not  protected  from  them 
by  any  of  those  brilliant  popular  talents  which  dazzle 
the  imagination  of  young  men ;  for  his  abilities  were 
not  then  appreciated.  He  was  regarded  as  a  plain  and 
unpretending  young  man,  whose  conduct  was  spot- 
lessly consistent,  and  whose  christian  courage  was  un- 
shakable. It  was  this  which  covered  him,  amidst  the 
most  heaven-daring  sinners,  with  a  shield  of  affection- 
ate respect. 

The  next  trait  of  his  christian  character  to  be  noted, 
was :  His  strict  conscientiousness.  Never  have  we 
known  a  christian  who  seemed  more  habitually  to 
walk 

"  As  ever  in  his  great  task-master's  eye." 

This  conscientiousness  was  seen  in  the  minutest  pe- 
cuniary transactions,  and  in  the  scrupulous  care  with 
which  he  used  the  interests  and  property  of  the  Serai- 
nary,  and  of  those  who  entrusted  their  concerns  to  him. 
That  word  of  our  Lord  was  to  him  a  living  precept, 
*'  He  that  is  faithful  in  that  which  is  least,  is  faithful 
also  in  much  ;  and  he  that  is  unjust  in  the  least,  is  un- 
just also  in  much." 

Instances  of  his  scrupulousness  might  be  mentioned, 
which  some  might  almost  regard  as  showing  a  "  mor- 
bid conscience."  We  can  only  say — Would  to  God 
that  all  his  people  were  infected  with  the  same  disease. 
There  was  nothing  morbid  or  exaggerated  in  his  chris- 
tian character.  On  the  contrary,  uniformity  and  good 
sense  were  its  peculiar  traits. 


14  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

As  instances  of  his  conscientiousness,  take  the  fol- 
lowing : 

We  find  him  determining  that  he  cannot  lend  his 
notes  of  the  professors'  lectures  (for  he  was  a  famous 
note  taker)  to  fellow  students  who  studied  them  on  the 
Sabbath.  Although,  in  all  other  cases,  unbounded  in 
his  kindness,  where  he  had  reason  to  believe  that  they 
would  be  so  abused,  he  inflexibly  exacted  their  return 
on  Saturday.  We  find  him,  in  every  friendly  letter, 
zealous  to  communicate  some  spiritual  gift;  and  on  his 
return  from  social  visits,  he  frequently  taxed  himself 
with  unfaithfulness,  because  he  had  been  satisfied  with 
the  innocence  of  his  social  enjoyments,  and  had  not 
enough  watched  for  openings  to  speak  for  Christ. 

On  a  visit  to  his  beloved  christian  relatives  in  Albe- 
marle, he  not  only  seeks  to  do  good  to  his  cousins,  but 
seized  an  opportunity  to  "  go  into  the  kitchen  at  his 
grand  father's  and  talk  with  old  aunt  Betty  the  cook, 
about  Christ,  his  righteousness  and  atonement,  our 
weakness  and  dependence  on  him,  and  the  glorious 
prospects  of  the  christian,  and  encourage  her  to  con- 
stant prayer.  She  thanked  me  for  my  advice ;  and 
said  she  rejoiced  in  the  Lord,  and  prayed  that  the  Lord 
would  make  me  happy  and  useful.  She  said  she  was 
so  glad  that  I  had  come  and  talked  with  her  about 
Christ.  How  happy  is  it,  to  be  with  a  christian,  whe- 
ther white  or  black!  How  good  is  my  God,  who  re- 
vealeth  liimself  to  the  poor  and  the  ignorant,  that  feel 
their  need  of  him  !  Wiiile  I  talked  with  this  kindred 
spirit,  my  own  soul  was  quickened,  and  the  tear  of 
sympatliy  dropped  down  my  cheek.     Tiie  old  womau 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  15 

cannot  read.  Lord  bless  her  soul,  and  give  her  grace, 
knowledge  and  true  religion,  with  all  its  comforts? 
Let  thy  blessing  rest  on  all  with  whom  I  conversed 
about  Christ." 

A  few  lines  further  we  read  this  : 

"  Was  detained  by  rain  longer  than  I  intended. 
Uncle  Thornton  lent  me  a  horse  to  ride  back.  Con- 
versed Vx^ith  the  servant  who  came  with  me,  about  the 
danger  of  his  immortal  soul ;  endeavored  to  make  plain 
to  him  the  way  of  salvation,  and  showed  him  how  rea- 
sonable it  would  be  for  God  to  cut  him  off  in  his  sins, 
before  he  could  repent.  Lord  bless  him  with  salva- 
tion." 

And  this,  reader,  was  not  in  the  glow  of  a  first  love, 
nor  in  a  season  of  religious  excitement.  He  had  been 
a  professed  christian  nearly  three  years.  How  many 
ministers  of  the  gospel  may  feel  rebuke  from  these 
examples  of  evangelical  zeal  in  a  young  college  stu- 
dent ! 

In  a  like  diligent  spirit  we  find  him  perfonning  each 
daily  task,  "as  unto  God  and  not  man,"  regulating  his 
diet  with  solemn  christian  self-denial,  because  he  found 
himself  sometimes  indisposed,  by  partial  excess,  to 
prayer  and  meditation,  and  exerting  his  influence  for 
good  over  his  comrades  by  every  means. 

In  his  walks  for  recreation,  he  met  with  a  plain  but 
respectable  countryman,  seriously  inclined,  though  not 
a  believer ;  and  this  casual  acquaintance  was  improved, 
to  set  on  foot  a  Sabbath  school  in  the  mountains,  and 
to  seek  the  salvation  of  the  farmer  and  his  wife,  by 
repeated  visits,  and  careful  instruction. 


16  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

When  he  had  fully  dedicated  himself  to  the  minis- 
try, and  to  the  foreign  missionary  work,  which,  he  then 
supposed,  was  to  be  his  destination,  he  thrust  aside  ob- 
stacles to  his  great  purpose,  with  a  heroic  self-denial, 
which  can  never  be  known,  until  the  day  which  reveals 
the  secrets  of  all  hearts.  In  all  the  domestic  relations 
of  his  subsequent  life,  in  the  duties  of  family  devotions, 
in  his  functions  as  master  and  father,  the  inmate  of  his 
household  could  clearly  perceive  that  God  was  con- 
tinually before  his  eyes.  As  an  officer  of  the  Seminary 
he  was  ever  at  his  post,  with  conscientious  diligence. 
No  sickness,  which  was  not  extreme,  could  detain  him 
from  his  class  room  ;  and  the  first  day  of  his  last,  fatal 
illness,  he  attempted  to  rise  and  attend  to  his  classes, 
and  only  desisted  from  his  purpose  when  literally 
overpowered  by  weakness. 

The  christian  reader  will  hardly  need  to  be  told,  that 
such  a  believer  as  is  above  portrayed,  abounded  in  ac- 
tive exertions,  and  the  labors  of  love  for  Christ  and 
perishing  souls.  To  appreciate  the  strength  of  this 
active  principle  in  him,  we  must  remember  the  mo- 
desty, the  almost  shrinking  diffidence  of  his  christian 
character.  A  few  instances  of  his  zeal  to  do  good 
have  already  been  mentioned.  When  he  went  to  the 
University  of  Virginia,  there  was  no  chaplain,  nor  reli- 
gious observance  of  any  kind.  Occasional  public  wor- 
ship had  been  held  perhaps,  by  transient  ministers  of 
distinction  ;  and  the  sound  religious  sentiment  which 
distinguishes  the  bulk  of  our  people,  was  beginning  to 
make  itself  felt  among  the  governors  of  the  institu- 
tion ;  so  that  they  were  not  unwilling  to  pay  the  tri- 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.   D.  17 

bute  of  some  outward   religious  observance  to  this 
public  opinion.     Soon  after  Dr.  Sampson  went  there, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Hamet,  a  Methodist  minister  of  great 
fluency,  and  popular  rhetorical  powers,  preached  in 
Charlottesville ;    and   the   most  thoughtless  students 
were    fascinated  with   his    abilities.     Advantage    was 
taken  of  this,  to  introduce  a  permanent  chaplain,  and 
Mr.  Hamet  was  the  first  who  filled  that  office.     The 
chaplain  is  usually  selected  by  the  faculty,  with  some 
conference  with  influential  ministers  of  his  own  de- 
nomination, and  is  supported  v/holly  by  a  voluntary 
subscription  among  the  professors,  students  and  other 
residents.     He  is  chosen  alternately  from  one  of  the 
four  leading  denominations,  Methodist,  Baptist,  Epis- 
copal and  Presbyterian  ;  and  served  at  first  one,  but 
now  two  years.     Dr.  Sampson  was  very  active  in  sup- 
porting this  new  enterprise,  and  gave  valuable  aid  to 
Mr.  Hamet,  though  his  short  stay  in  that  office  pro- 
mised no  very  valuable  religious  results.     He  was  suc- 
ceeded by  men  of  a  more  evangelical  type ;  and  to 
them  all  Dr.  Sampson  was  a  right  hand,  during  his 
stay  at  the  University,  whatever  their  denomination. 
He  was  also  the  most  active  agent  in  originating  the 
first   Sabbath  school   in  the  University,  and  was  its 
superintendent.     We  are  assured  by  an  eminent  citi- 
zen, who  was  then  a  child  in  one  of  the  families  con- 
nected with  the  institution,  that  he  was  taught  in  this 
Sabbath  school  by  Dr.  Sampson,  and  there  received 
his  first  saving  impressions.     The  first  private  prayer 
meeting  among  the  pious  students  of  the  University 
was  equally  indebted  to  his  agency  for  its  maintenance. 

3 


18  CHRISTIAN    LIFK    AND    CHARACTER 

It  met  every  Sabbath  evening;  and  \vc  find  in  Ins 
short  diary  frequent  references  to  his  enjoyment  of  its 
christian  communion,  and  to  his  having  addressed  a 
word  of  exhortation  to  his  brethren  there. 

The  following  sentences,  communicated  by  the  Rev. 
Dr.  White,  who  was  pastor  of  the  Charlottesville 
church  from  the  spring  of  1836  to  1S48,  happily  ex- 
press the  position  which  Dr.  Sampson  then  held 
there : 

"  My  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Sampson  commenced 
in  the  spring  of  1836.  He  was  then  just  closing  his 
course  at  the  University  of  Virginia;  and  on  the  4th 
of  .luly  of  that  year,  he  took  the  degree  of  M.  A.  with 
great  credit.  The  South  Plains  church  then  embraced 
the  Presbyterians  living  in  the  University  and  Char- 
lottesville. There  were  not  more  than  sixteen  mem- 
bers living  at  these  places.  On  my  arrival,  lie  called 
on  me,  and  although  very  modest,  yet  convinced  me 
in  one  short  interview,  that  he  was  a  youth  of  no  ordi- 
nary talents  and  piety.  He  was  then,  I  should  sup- 
pose, about  twenty  years  of  age — between  twenty-one 
and  twenty-two.  He  entered  with  great  interest  into 
conversation  on  the  subject  of  religion  ;  and  had  evi- 
dently thought  and  prayed  much  for  the  prosperity  of 
Zioa.  He  gave  me  more  information  respecting  the 
condition  of  the  church,  and  both  said  and  did  more  to 
cheer  me  in  the  work  1  was  about  to  undertake,  than 
any  one  with  whom  I  met.  I  well  remember  the  first 
attempt  I  made  to  have  evening  service  in  the  dirty 
and  dilapidated  church.  When  I  reached  the  house,  I 
found  it  was  neither  lisj^hted  nor  unlocked.    As  I  stood 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  19 

in  front  of  the  building  with  half  a  dozen  others,  none 
of  whom  seemed  to  know  what  to  do  in  this  great 
emergency,  Sampson  came  up,  accompanied  by  several 
of  his  fellow  students  from  the  University.  I  was  on 
the  point  of  abandoning  the  undertaking  in  despair, 
when  he,  with  his  accustomed  quickness  and  energy, 
said,  '  Don't  go  yet — I'll  see  what  can  be  done.'  He 
hurried  away,  and  very  soon  returned  with  candles  in 
one  hand,  and  the  means  of  lighting  them  in  the 
other — entered  the  house  by  raising  one  of  the  win- 
dows, and  soon  had  the  church  opened,  lighted,  and 
ready  for  service.  I  preached  to  just  one  dozen 
hearers,  and  found  no  little  help  in  doing  so  from  the 
part  he  had  acted. 

"  Through  his  whole  course  at  the  University,  he 
was  as  much  distinguished  for  his  firmness  as  for  his 
modesty,  and  as  eminent  for  his  piety  as  for  his  scholar- 
ship and  talents.  My  impression  is,  that  he  established 
the  first  Sabbath  school  ever  taught,  and  the  first 
prayer  meeting  ever  held  in  the  University.  I  am  sure 
he  took  a  very  active  part  in  both  these  departments 
of  benevolent  and  christian  effort. 

"  A  few  weeks  before  he  graduated,  the  lamented 
Professor  Davis  said  to  me,  with  a  very  sad  expression 
of  countenance,  '  We  are  about  to  lose  Sampson  ;  and 
a  sad  loss  it  will  be  to  the  University.  With  a  modesty 
and  reserve  seldom,  if  ever,  equaled,  he  combines  a 
firmness  of  purpose,  and  an  openness  and  energy  in 
seeking  to  check  evil  and  do  good,  which  have  made 
him  a  great  blessing  to  the  whole  institution.  His  in- 
fluence over  all  classes  of  persons  is  astonishing.     Has 


20  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

your  church  no  more  sucli  young  men  to  send  to  us  ? 
The  University  might  well  afford  to  furnish  any  num- 
ber of  such  with  tlieir  board  and  tuition  gratis.' 

*'  I  have  always  believed  that  the  course  he  pursued 
and  the  influence  he  exerted  contributed  immensely  to 
the  great  change  which,  from  that  time,  began  to  take 
place  in  the  religious  character  of  that  institution. 
My  connection  with  him  there  ceased  after  some  two 
or  three  months.  In  a  pleasant  interview  with  him 
just  before  he  left,  he  said  to  me,  '  I  must  preach  the 
Gospel,  or  die  in  the  attempt.'  He  left  in  the  state  of 
mind  indicated  by  this  remark ;  and  you  know  the 
rest." 

We  cannot  refrain  from  adding  the  closing  para- 
graphs of  Dr.  White's  remarks  concerning  him,  though 
more  confidential  in  their  tone,  and  not  relating  to  the 
subject  immediately  before  us.  His  words  give  a 
touching  and  truthful  picture  of  the  impression  made 
by  the  lovely  christian  simplicity  and  modesty  of  his 
demeanor. 

"  He  spent  two  or  three  days  with  me,  and  preached 
twice  for  me  during  the  summer  preceding  his  death. 
The  impression  he  made  both  upon  my  congregation 
and  family,  was  of  the  most  salutary  and  pleasing 
kind.  His  meekness  and  gentleness,  his  freedom  from 
all  ostentation  and  reserve,  won  the  confidence  of  the 
youngest  member  of  my  household.  So  much  so,  that 
for  weeks  and  months  afterwards,  his  visit  was  fre- 
quently mentioned  at  my  fireside,  as  an  event  to  be 
remembered  with  mingled  emotions  of  pleasure  and 
pain.     With  pleasure,  because  we  enjoyed  the  privi- 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  21 

lege  of  entertaining  him ;  and  with  pain,  because  we 
feared  we  should  never  enjoy  this  high  privilege  again. 
When  this  fear  was  realized  by  the  announcement  of 
his  death,  the  deepest  gloom  passed  over  my  family 
circle,  and  tears  were  shed  that  we  should  see  his  face 
no  more." 

If  every  pious  student  and  other  young  christian 
were  thus  diligent  in  doing  good,  how  different  would 
be  the  aspect  of  our  churches  and  colleges.  What  a 
new  impression  of  the  solemn  reality  and  urgency  of 
the  work  of  redemption  would  replace  in  the  minds 
of  their  thoughtless  associates,  that  unreal  and  dreamy 
idea  which  they  now  entertain  ! 

At  the  Union  Seminary,  which  Dr.  Sampson  joined 
the  fall  after  he  left  the  University,  his  christian  acti- 
vity was  similar.  No  man  was  farther  than  he  from 
that  misplaced  zeal,  which  aspires  to  do  the  work  of 
an  evangelist,  while  still  a  student,  at  the  expense  of 
a  student's  proper  duties.  In  preparation  for  the 
class  room,  in  punctual  attention  to  the  routine  of  his 
duties,  in  accurate  scholarship,  he  was  among  the  fore- 
most. But  to  do  good  was  one  of  the  recreations  of 
his  leisure  hours.  During  a  season  of  religious  interest, 
which  visited  the  College  in  the  immediate  neighbor- 
hood of  the  Seminary,  he,  with  others,  labored  much 
in  a  modest  way;  and  some  of  the  subjects  of  that 
work,  if  ever  they  attain  to  that  blessed  world  where 
we  believe  he  now  is,  will  have  occasion  to  acknow- 
ledge their  debt  to  his  wisdom  and  love,  to  all  eternity. 

As  soon  as  he  was  licensed  to  preach  the  Gospel,  by 
the  Presbytery  of  East  Hanover,  be  began  to  abound 


^3  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

in  evangelical  labors,  which,  to  his  death,  were  in- 
creasingly acceptable  to  the  churches.  Besides  the 
labors  of  his  vacations,  in  his  native  county,  and  others 
at  a  distance  from  the  Seminary,  he  preached  sta- 
tedly, at  different  times,  in  the  College  and  Farmville 
churches,  at  Guinea  in  the  county  of  Cumberland, 
Charlotte  court-house,  Walker's,  Forest  and  Appomat- 
tox churches  in  the  county  of  Prince  Edward.  Some 
of  these  labors  were  wholly  gratuitous.  For  a  con- 
siderable period,  his  stated  labors  not  being  more 
urgently  needed  in  any  of  the  churches  of  convenient 
access,  he  preached  regularly  to  a  congregation  of 
colored  people,  for  no  other  reward  than  the  pleasure 
of  doing  good. 

Another  marked  trait  of  his  christian  character  was 
the  uniformity  and  healthful ness  of  his  devotional 
spirit.  While  his  private  habits  in  this  matter  were 
covered  with  a  sacred  veil,  which  none  dared  to  at- 
tempt to  lift — drawn  alike  by  the  reverence  and  the 
modesty  of  his  spirit — his  profiting  was  so  outwardly 
evident  to  all,  that  no  one  could  doubt  his  diligence 
in  the  closet.  While  his  brief  diary  laments  occa- 
sional spiritual  declensions,  there  is  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  he  never  knew  what  it  was  to  lose  the  assu- 
rance of  hope ;  and  that  the  flame  of  devotion  burned 
in  him  with  a  glow  unusually  steady.  In  public,  his 
prayers  were  eminentl}^  edifying  to  believers,  marked 
by  scriptural  tone,  humble  sincerity,  appropriateness 
and  comprehensiveness.  But  to  know  the  sweetness 
of  his  spirit  of  prayer  fully,  one  must  have  enjoyed 
the  privilege  of  being  an  inmate  of  his  house  and  fre- 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  23 

quenting  his  domestic  altar.  Family  prayers  were,  in 
his  house,  no  hurried,  unmeaning  form.  The  whole 
air  and  tone  of  the  exercise  showed  deep  sincerity  and 
earnestness.  After  a  daily  catechising  of  children  and 
servants,  the  reading  of  the  Word  of  God,  and  a  hymn 
of  praise,  he  bowed  his  knees  with  a  composed  awe 
and  seriousness,  which  seemed  to  communicate  itself 
to  all  the  circle.  What  deep  sincerity,  what  discrim- 
ination and  justice,  what  point,  what  fullness,  what 
grave  tenderness  characterized  those  prayers,  as  he 
brought  before  the  throne  of  grace  his  household — his 
children,  his  servants,  his  relatives,  his  brethren  in 
Christ,  the  Seminary,  the  church,  and  the  whole  inte- 
rests of  a  perishing  world !  To  those  who  were  so 
happy  as  to  be  often  present,  it  was  not  difficult  to 
believe  that  these  services  would  leave  their  calm  and 
holy  savor  upon  the  spirit,  throughout  all  the  toils  and 
cares  of  the  day,  like  "the  dew  upon  Hemoii,  and 
as  the  dews  that  descended  upon  the  mountains  of 
Zion." 

His  religious  principles  were  strikingly  illustrated 
also,  by  the  manner  in  which  he  felt  the  call  to  the 
ministry. 

As  has  been  already  indicated,  his  definite  purpose 
was  fixed,  in  this  matter,  during  his  residence  at  the 
University.  It  was  formed  in  tiie  face  of  the  strongest 
influences  and  the  most  brillant  allurements  to  more 
wordly  and  ambitious  pursuits.  He  has  left  on  record 
the  great  benefit  which  he  received  in  this  respect,  as 
well  as  in  others,  from  the  Biography  of  James  Brain- 
erd  Taylor,  edited  by  Dr.  John  H.  Rice.     The  pria- 


34  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

ciples  illustrated  in  the  life  of  that  devoted  young 
christian  had  a  powerful  influence  in  fixing  his  resolu- 
tion to  consecrate  himself  to  the  work  of  preaching 
the  Gospel.  But  this  purpose  began  to  dawn  in  his 
soul  from  the  very  beginning  of  his  christian  life.  On 
one  occasion  the  writer  asked  him,  what  were  the 
time  and  means  for  bringing  the  claims  of  the  minis- 
try home  to  his  conscience.  He  answered,  "  There 
never  was  a  time,  in  my  christian  life,  when  I  did  not 
feel  the  claims  of  the  ministry."  In  reply  to  the 
question,  how  this  was,  he  continued,  "  I  simply  rea- 
soned thus  :  I  had  given  myself  wholly  up  to  God,  to 
be  used  for  his  highest  glory,  and  if  he  needed  me 
most  in  the  work  of  the  ministry,  as  seemed  every 
way  probable,  as  a  thing  of  course  I  was  bound  to  be 
a  minister." 

His  settled  purpose,  during  a  large  part  of  his  Uni- 
versity and  Seminary  course,  was,  to  prepare  himself 
thoroughly  for  the  work  of  a  translator  in  some  im- 
portant foreign  mission.  He  was  led  to  this  purpose 
by  his  success  and  accuracy  as  a  linguist,  and  his  hum- 
ble estimate  of  his  own  talents,  and  his  ciipacities  for 
public  speaking.  He  seems  to  have  thought  that  he 
was  deficient  in  all  those  more  brilliant  gifts,  which 
secure  success  in  the  pulpit ;  that  his  only  talent  was 
a  patience,  diligence  and  accuracy,  which  would  make 
him  a  correct  scholar,  and  that  this  humble  talent  he 
could  best  use  for  his  master's  glory,  in  the  unobtru- 
sive drudgery  of  rendering  God's  Word  into  the  tongue 
of  some  Pagan  people.  With  this  object,  he  devoted 
himself  most  diligently  to  languages,  drilled  and  cul- 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  25 

tivated  liis  mind  as  thoroughly  as  possible  in  his  pre- 
paratory course,  and,  in  the  Seminary,  mastered  as 
thoroughly  as  possible  the  languages  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. But  his  master  thought  not  so.  When  his 
Seminary  course  was  but  two-thirds  done,  he  called 
him,  by  his  Providence  and  the  voice  of  his  church,  to 
a  responsible  work  at  home ;  and  speedily  rewarded 
his  humble  fidelity,  by  giving  him  fame  and  influence 
in  the  pulpit,  of  which  he  had  judged  himself  un- 
worthy. 

Now,  here  ia  a  lesson  for  those  young  christians, 
who  make  a  lack  of  special  capacity  for  speaking  or 
of  similar  qualifications,  their  pretext  for  declining  the 
claims  of  the  ministry.  This  servant  of  God  had  a 
sincere  distrust  of  his  own  capacities ;  but  with  a  heart 
consecrated  with  equal  sincerity  to  his  Saviour's  ser- 
vice, he  humbly  ofi*ered  himself  to  the  work,  to  do 
what  he  could,  believing  that  God  would  accept  him 
according  to  that  which  he  had,  and  not  according  to 
that  which  he  had  not.  Yea,  and  he  was  accepted ; 
and  not  only  used  his  scholastic  accuracy  for  the 
service  of  God  in  a  high  and  honorable  sphere,  but 
became  one  of  the  most  admired  and  impressive 
preachers  of  the  land. 

Young  christian,  if  thy  self-distrust  is  genuine,  go 
thou  and  do  likewise.  But  if  it  is  feigned,  remember 
that  "  all  things  are  naked  and  opened  unto  the  eyes 
of  him  with  whom  we  have  to  do." 

Our  portraiture  would  be  recognized  by  all  the 
friends  of  Dr.  Sampson  as  incomplete,  if  we  omitted 
those  which  were,  to  all,  his  most  obvious  traits :  mo- 

4 


26  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

desty  and  disinterestedness.  One  of  his  most  faithful 
friends  was  accustomed  to  say  of  him,  "  If  Brother 
Sampson  has  a  fault,  it  is  that  he  is  too  modest."  This 
virtue  was  impressed  upon  his  social  demeanor,  upon 
all  his  acts  of  conscientious  decision,  and  upon  his  de- 
portment in  all  the  courts  of  the  church.  There,  he 
was  usually  a  respectful  listener,  and  a  rare  and  brief 
speaker.  When  his  sense  of  the  importance  of  a 
measure  called  him  out,  his  remarks  were  direct,  lucid 
and  weighty,  and  offered  witii  an  air  which  showed 
that  he  shrunk  from  occupying  the  time  and  attention 
of  the  body  longer  than  was  unavoidable.  Self-dis- 
play and  self-seeking  were  ideas  which  none  that 
knew  him  associated  with  his  name.  Always  estimat- 
ing his  own  talents  and  knowledge  below  their  real 
worth,  he  rather  shrank  from  promotion  than  sought 
it.  He  waited  for  the  call  of  his  brethren  and  Provi- 
dence ;  and  it  is  believed  that  there  never  existed  a 
case,  in  which  he  consented  to  lift  a  finger,  directly  or 
indirectly,  to  promote  his  own  advancement,  even  by 
honorable  means.  Before  he  became  a  student  of  di- 
vinity, he  refused  very  flattering  offers  of  literary  em- 
ployment, not  inconsistent  with  clerical  duties.  And 
after  he  engaged  in  the  service  of  the  Seminary,  and 
received  the  assurances  of  his  brethren  that  they 
judged  his  labors  essential  to  the  cause  of  God  in  that 
institution,  no  inconveniences  in  his  pos^^^,  and  no  ad- 
vantages offered  from  without,  weighed  a  feather  to- 
wards leaving  it.  During  this  time,  several  offers  of 
employment,  such  us  professorships,  more  lucrative, 
and  not  un worth v  of  a  christian  minister,  were  made 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  27 

to  liim.  His  answer  always  was,  that  God  seemed  to 
have  work  for  him  to  do  where  he  was ;  and  as  long 
as  this  was  so,  he  had  no  right  to  leave  it  for  any 
increase  of  his  personal  comforts  or  emoluments. 
Meantime,  those  emoluments  were  so  stinted  for  many 
years,  in  consequence  of  the  financial  embarrassments 
of  the  Seminary,  as  scarcely  to  afford  the  means  of 
comfortable  subsistence.  Up  to  his  formal  election  to 
the  professorship  in  which  he  died,  while  he  performed 
the  full  duties  of  a  professor  in  fact,  and  was  acknow- 
ledged by  all  to  be  second  to  no  one  in  the  value  of 
his  labors,  he  received  less  than  two-thirds  of  the 
emoluments  belonging  to  the  office  of  a  professor  in 
this  institution.  This  continued  for  ten  years — years 
of  activity,  and  growing  reputation  and  usefulness — 
second  to  none  of  the  years  of  his  life.  When  he  left 
his  post  temporarily,  to  improve  his  knowledge  and 
health  in  Europe,  the  directors  of  the  Seminary  con- 
tinued to  him  this  inadequate  salary  during  his  ab- 
sence— feeling  that  his  tour  was,  in  fact,  in  the  service 
of  the  Seminary,  and  that  this  was  no  more  than  a  just 
reparation  for  the  unavoidable  scantiness  of  his  pre- 
vious compensation.  But  even  this  he  declined  to  re- 
tain, and  refunded  it  to  the  Seminary  after  his  return, 
in  annual  instaUments.  So  that  the  last  year  of  his 
life  may  be  said  to  be  the  only  one  in  which  he  re- 
ceived the  full  salary  which  he  had  all  along  deserved. 
Yet  in  refunding  this  sum,  he  considered  himself  as 
repaying  a  debt,  and  not  conferring  a  gift. 

A  very  few  years  before  his  death  he  came  into  pos- 
session of  a  part  of  his  ample  patrimony,  and  then  his 


28  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

benefactions  increased  with  his  ability.  His  donations 
to  the  Seminary  and  to  other  institutions  of  public  inte- 
rest, were  bestowed  with  a  generous  hand. 

His  conscientiousness  in  the  use  of  wealth,  might 
well  be  imitated  by  many  other  christians.  "Whether 
his  circumstances  were  scanty  or  affluent,  he  was  sim- 
ple in  his  tastes,  unostentatious  in  his  person,  and 
economical  from  principle.  In  accordance  with  the 
general  system  of  all  his  habits,  he  kept  an  exact  ac- 
count of  all  expenditures — a  thing  which  is,  indeed,  a 
necessary  foundation  for  the  proper  practice  both  of 
christian  liberality  and  christian  economy.  He  was 
economical  only  in  order  to  have  the  means  to  be  libe- 
ral. His  christian  hospitality  was  overflowing ;  and  it 
was  truly  the  hospitality  of  a  christian  minister,  de- 
signed not  for  its  own  display,  but  for  the  bestowal 
of  comfort  on  others.  To  every  good  cause  he  gave, 
always  with  the  heart,  and  when  his  means  became 
ample,  with  the  hand  of  a  prince.  It  was  one  of  the 
secrets  which  his  christian  modesty  never  revealed, 
that  he  kept  a  strict  account  between  himself  and 
God,  in  which  all  sources  of  income  were  stated  with 
scrupulous  exactness,  and  a  fixed  and  liberal  portion 
of  the  sum  was  set  apart  to  almsgiving;  and  this  ac- 
count was  balanced  with  as  much  regularity  as  his 
bank  book.  Meantime,  he  was  not  without  the  pre- 
text, which  many  professors  of  religion  find  for  stint- 
ing their  liberality,  in  the  claims  of  a  growing  family. 


^<^F    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D. 


29 


CHAPTER    III. 

I$r.  Sampson  as  a  Student.    Wise  and  Resokite  Plan.    Thoroughness. 
Intense  Application.     His  Scholarship— Its  Range  and  Accuracy. 

The  third  general  topic  proposed  to  the  reader,  will 
be  the  habits  of  study  and  scholarship  of  Dr.  Sampson. 
A  brief  statement  of  his  methodical  and  thorongh 
system  of  study  has  already  been  made.  It  may  per- 
haps be  said  with  truth,  that  the  only  peculiar  indica- 
tion of  talent,  which  the  beginning  of  his  scholastic 
life  gave,  was  the  wise  and  resolute  plan  of  study 
which  he  set  before  himself,  and  pursued  from  the 
first,  with  all  the  determination  of  his  character.  For 
surely,  such  wise  determination  is  a  talent — it  is  a  trait 
of  mental  and  moral  greatness — and  one  rare  and  in- 
valuable in  a  stripling  of  sixteen.  He  seems  to  have 
begun  his  collegiate  course  with  a  fixed  reference  to 
the  greatest  ultimate  benefit.  While  he  was  a  most 
punctual  and  laborious  student,  exact  in  all  collegiate 
duties,  allowing  himself,  for  years,  only  six  hours  in 
bed,  and  but  a  scanty  season  for  recreation,  he  did  not 
fall  into  the  temptation  which  overthrows  so  many  at 
the  University  of  Virginia.  This  is  the  ambition  to 
run  rapidly  over  the  course,  by  an  extraordinary  and 
spasmodic  exertion,  and  thereby  to  excite  admiration, 


30  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND   CHARACrER 

and  to  pass  speedily  into  the  duties  of  active  life.  Dr- 
Sampson's  course,  on  the  contrary,  was  long  and  deli- 
berate, covering  five  years.  Many  distinguished  citi- 
zens, who  were  his  fellow  students,  state  that  he  was. 
at  fii'st  only  known  as  "  an  excellent  student,"  of  good 
sense  and  accurate  habits ;  but  that  with  every  session,, 
the  appreciation  of  his  abilities  and  learning  increased. 
He  seems  to  have  practiced,  from  the  fii'st,  the  wisdom 
so  rare  in  youth,  of  leaving  nothing  behind  unmastered,, 
of  never  weakening  the  accuracy  of  his  faculties  and 
perceptions  by  ha»f  prepared  tasks,  and  half  under- 
stood views.  His  scholarship  was  matured  and  di- 
gested, as  he  progressed.  And  this  character  was. 
found  eminently  in  all  his  subsequent  acquisitions.  It 
has  been  said  that,  as  a  Seminary  student,  he  showed 
equal  diligence  and  method.  As  a  professor,  his  dili- 
gence was  great,  and  his  toil  in  study  excessive,  until 
increasing  intirmities  compelled  him  to  relax  his  labors^ 
It  is  well  remembered  by  some  of  his  pupils,  that 
once,  when  taking  a  class  over  the  Epistle  to  the  He- 
brews, which  he  had  gone  over  more  than  once  before, 
he  spent,  on  an  average,  thirty  hours  of  active  study 
on  each  lesson,  in  additional  preparation.  But  alas ! 
here  the  intensity  of  his  zeal  reached  its  crisis.  This 
was  the  last  year  of  his  firm,  unbroken  health ;  and 
henceforth,  "  while  the  spirit  was  willing,  the  flesh 
was  weak." 

If  all  our  young  ministry  was  inspired  with  such 
zeal,  how  glorious  would  be  the  result  ?  Perhaps  the- 
number  might  be  increased  of  those  who,  like  our 
lamented  brothci'^  would  have  to  say  of  themselves^, 


OF    FRANCIS   S.    SAMPSON,   ».    D.  ^1 

■^'The  zeal  of  thy  house  hath  consumed  me,"  and 
whose  premature  loss  the  church  would  bemoan  just 
as  their  harvest  of  usefulness  was  beginning.  But 
would  not  this  spirit  endue  the  ministry  of  reconcilia- 
tion with  an  influence,  a  weight,  a  might,  a  glory, 
which  would  be  cheaply  purchased,  even  at  so  pre- 
•cious  a  cost  ?  A  costly  price  hath  our  Zion  paid  for 
this  example,  which  she  now  offers  to  her  young  min- 
isters, to  teach  them  what  is  the  diligence  they  should 
exercise !  May  God  forbid  that  it  should  be  lost  on 
them.  Happy  is  that  man  who  falls  at  the  high  noon 
of  his  career,  and  on  the  spring  tide  of  his  success,  at 
his  post  of  duty ;  but  happier  is  he  who  can  so  temper 
a  burning  activity  with  a  holy  prudence,  and  so  avoid 
both  a  corroding  slnggisliness  and  a  rash  overexertion, 
as  to  rise  brightly  to  the  meridian  of  his  powers,  and 
then  decline  gently  towards  their  serene  evening,  and 
thus  to  bless  the  church  both  with  his  earlier  strength 
and  his  riper  experience. 

By  such  system  and  diligence,  Dr.  Sampson  became 
one  of  the  best  educated  men  of  our  countr3^  In  all 
the  departments  of  letters  he  was  able,  above  the 
average.  His  knowledge  of  systematic  theology  was 
profound  and  extensive.  Of  church  history  he  re- 
tained a  knowledge  far  superior  to  that  which  most 
young  ministers  bring  to  their  ordination,  although  his 
department  called  him  away  from  these  studies ;  and 
he  was  accustomed  to  complain  that  his  memory  was 
treacherous  with  regard  to  those  of  its  stores  which 
he  had  no  opportunity  to  review.  His  mastery  of 
Latin  and  Greek,  and  of  most  of  the  polite  languages 


32  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AIVD    CHARACTER 

of  modern  Europe,  would  have  abundantly  qualifieJ 
him  for  the  highest  posts  of  instruction  in  America. 
To  say  that  it  was  such  as  becomes  a  well  educated 
minister,  would  be  utterly  inadequate  to  the  truth. 
But  his  ripest  acquirements  were  in  the  Hebrew  lite- 
rature and  the  exposition  of  the  Scripture.  Here,  as 
is  well  known,  he  was  pre-eminent  for  thoroughness, 
accuracy  and  philosophical  arrangement.  While  there 
may  be  man}'-  who  possess  an  equal  familiarity  with 
these  departments  of  learning,  it  may  be  safely  as- 
serted that,  as  a  teacher  of  Hebrew,  there  was  not  his 
superior  on  our  continent. 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  33 


CHAPTER     IV. 

Characteristics  as  a  Teacher.    Tact.    Vivacity.    Earnestness.    Patience. 
Intercourse  with  Pupils.     Hebrew  Prelections. 

This  naturally  suggests  another  subject  of  remark — 
his  character  as  an  instructor.  In  his  practical  skill 
as  a  teacher,  was  his  peculiar  value  to  the  church  of 
our  day ;  for  as  a  master  of  the  art  of  communicating 
knowledge,  he  was,  in  our  view,  unrivaled.  It  was 
not  that  his  lectures  presented  those  grand  sayings 
which  electrify  for  the  moment,  nor  that  any  one  of 
his  efforts  produced  on  the  pupil  an  impress  of  pre- 
eminent talent — but  there  was  just  the  combination 
of  that  justness  of  mind,  steady  animation,  thorough 
knowledge,  patience  and  tact,  which  gave  the  highest 
skill  in  teaching,  both  as  it  is  a  trade  and  as  it  is  a 
science.  He  was  equal  to  its  profoundest  researches. 
He  shunned  none  of  its  most  irksome  drudgeries. 
One  of  the  foundation  stones  of  his  success  was  his 
own  indisputable  scholarship.  No  man  ever  passed 
through  one  of  his  classes  without  a  profound  and 
admiring  conviction  of  this.  Another  was  in  his  un- 
failing animation  and  vivacity  of  mind,  which  was  so 
keen,   even  on  subjects  usually  esteemed  dry,  as  to 

5 


34  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

seem  unaccountable  to  inuny.  The  exertion  of  voice 
and  body  which  he  unconsciously  employed,  when 
thoroughly  warmed  to  his  work,  was  often  the  subject 
of  playful  remark  between  him  and  his  colleagues. 
This  animation  communicated  itself  to  his  pu}>ils — so 
that  usually  their  highest  diligen  •('  was  exerted  in  his 
department,  though  it  was  one  not  most  attractive  to 
all  minds.  But  to  this  result  another  quality,  which 
is  invaluable  to  the  teacher,  also  contributed.  This 
was  the  energy  of  his  own  will,  which  pressed  on  to- 
wards the  objects  of  his  exertion  with  an  impetus 
which  swept  all  along  with  it,  and  communicated  its 
own  life  to  the  most  sluggish.  In  every  act  of  his  in 
the  class  room,  there  was  expressed  the  idea  of  work; 
and  all  who  frequented  it  soon  felt  instinctively  that  it 
was  not  the  place  for  loitering.  It  might  be  said  that 
his  watchword  was  thoroughness.  With  an  admirable 
patience,  he  expounded  his  subject  so  as  to  make  it 
luminous  to  the  weakest  eye;  and  if  his  questions 
revealed  the  fact  that  there  was  still  some  one  who  did 
not  fully  comprehend,  he  would  resume  his  explana- 
tion, and  repeat  in  varied  forms,  till  his  ideas  were 
thoroughly  mastered.  Out  of  this  habit,  and  tl.e  pro- 
pensity of  his  mind  to  tliorough  work,  probably  grew 
that  which  might  have  been  considered  his  prominent 
fault  as  an  instructor.  His  explanations  sometimes 
degenerated  into  excessive  amplification,  which  be- 
came wearisome  to  those  who  had  given  him  a  mode- 
rate degree  of  attention  from  the  beginning ;  and  he 
thus  unduly  protracted  his  prelections. 

His  intercourse  with  his  pupils  was  marked  by  a 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  35 

happy  union  of  modest  dignity,  which  repelled  im- 
proper encroachments,  and  cordial,  ingenuous  kind- 
ness, which  conciliated  confidence.  In  his  presence, 
each  one  felt  that  there  was  a  simplicity  and  candor 
which  set  the  stamp  of  reality  on  every  kind  attention. 
It  is  believed  that  there  is  not  one  of  his  pupils  who 
did  not  feel  for  him  not  only  respect,  but  warm  affec- 
tion ;  and  many  can  join  in  the  sad  words  of  one  who 
remarked,  when  speaking  of  his  death,  "Well,  I  never 
expect  to  meet  with  another  Minister  of  the  Gospel, 
whom  I  shall  love  and  revere  as  I  did  that  man." 
Often  it  was  a  subject  of  wonder  to  his  colleagues, 
how  so  much  affection  could  be  retained  from  those 
towards  whom  he  exercised  so  much  fidelity  in  ad- 
monishing. 

The  distinctive  traits  of  his  expository  instructions 
may  perhaps  be  described  as  justice  of  thought,  neat- 
ness, and  impartiality  of  mind.  He  believed  the 
plenary  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures.  His  soul  loved 
their  spiritual  truths ;  and  often  in  the  lecture  room 
he  soared  away  from  the  dry  dissection  of  words  and 
propositions,  into  regions  of  devout  meditation,  and 
made  his  class  forget  for  the  time  the  exercises  of  the 
head,  in  the  nobler  exercises  of  the  heart. 

It  was  in  his  Hebrew  prelections  that  his  mental 
excellence  shone  most  distinctly.  He  had  applied  the 
broadest  principles  of  etymology  to  the  elements  of 
this  language,  in  a  manner  original  and  philosophical ; 
and  had  thus  reduced  them  to  an  order  which,  so  far 
as  we  know,  is  not  equaled  by  any  published  gram- 
mar.    His  lectures  unfolded  the  Hebrew  etymology 


36  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

with  a  lucid  order,  beauty  and  simplicity,  which 
could  not  fail  to  delight  every  intelligent  learner.  In- 
deed, if  we  may  be  permitted  to  introduce  our  own 
judgment,  after  frequenting  the  halls  of  three  separate 
institutions  of  learning,  and  sitting  under  some  of  the 
most  gifted  and  learned  men  who  have  appeared  on 
this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  Dr.  Sampson's  lectures  on 
the  Hebrew  language,  and  some  other  departments, 
seem  to  us  the  most  philosophical,  the  most  complete, 
the  best  tcaclmisr  to  which  we  ever  listened.  None  who 
attended  his  prelections  on  the  canon  of  Scripture  (of 
which  there  remains  a  brief  specimen  in  his  "  Uni- 
versity Lecture,"  will  forget  the  masterly  nature  of  the 
argument  there  constructed.  It  is  one  not  servilely 
copied  or  compiled  from  previous  writers,  but  con- 
structed on  his  own  plan.  He  has  there  built,  upon 
a  foundation  of  adamant,  a  structure  whose  ribs  of 
steel  are  knit  together  with  the  strength  of  mathe- 
matical demonstration.  No  part  is  wanting,  and  every 
part  is  in  its  exact  place.  It  stands  totus  teres  et  ro- 
tundus,  impenetrable  everywhere  to  refutation. 

Alas !  that  there  remain  no  permanent  records  of 
most  of  these  invaluable  instructions,  except  in  the 
scanty  and  scattered  notes  of  his  pupils.  In  his  later 
years.  Dr.  Sampson  regretted  often  that  he  had  not 
found  time  to  fix  upon  paper  more  of  his  course  of  in- 
struction. But  such  was  his  unambitious  and  self- 
sacrificing  spirit,  that  he  always  yielded  to  the  urgent 
demands  of  the  present,  and  preferred  the  thorough 
performance  of  his  duties  to  his  classes,  to  the  gather- 
ing of  those  fruits  of  his  researches,  which  would  have 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  37 

promoted  the  fame  of  his  authorship.  He  said,  that 
if  he  became  an  author,  he  must  be  a  less  diligent 
teacher.  There  was  not  time  to  be,  thoroughly,  both 
at  once.  And  he  preferred  rather  to  leave  his  record 
written  on  the  minds  and  hearts  of  the  rising  ministry 
of  our  Synods,  where  it  might  be  fruitful  in  the  en- 
lightening of  souls,  than  in  volumes  which  would 
hand  down  his  name  to  future  ages.  But  besides  this, 
he  was  cut  down  just  when  the  fruits  of  his  arduous 
studies  were  coming  to  their  rich  maturity.  Had  he 
lived  to  old  age,  he  might  have  gathered  some  of  them 
into  books,  for  the  benefit  of  a  wider  and  more  remote 
circle. 


38  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 


CHAPTER     V. 

Dr.  Sampson  as  a  Preacher.  Simplicity  of  Style.  Logical  Arrange- 
ment. Elevation  of  Thought.  Steadily  advancing  Reputation.  Lea- 
son  of  Encouragement  to  young  Divines. 

The  reader  will  almost  be  able  to  surmise,  from  what 
has  now  been  said,  the  character  of  his  preaching.  It 
exhibited  always  the  lucid  order,  and  the  animation  of 
mind  which  marked  everything  which  he  produced. 
His  best  sermons  rose  to  a  grade  of  excellence  which  is 
seldom  displayed  in  any  part  of  the  church.  And  it 
was  an  excellence  which  was  most  appreciated  by  the 
most  cultivated  and  mature  minds.  Whilst  there  were 
other  preachers,  who  would  be  more  sought  after  by 
the  masses,  he  was  preferred  by  the  men  of  thought 
and  acquirement.  His  plans  of  discussion  were  marked 
by  a  just  and  comprehensive  view,  which  showed  both 
the  profound  theologian,  and  the  ripe  biblical  scholar, 
who  had  drunk  deep  into  tlie  spirit  of  the  Word  of 
God.  His  propositions  were  usually  stated  with  sin- 
gular accuracy  and  beauty  of  language ;  but  it  was  a 
beauty  rather  logical  than  theoretical,  rather  chaste 
than  florid.  Indeed,  his  whole  method  of  discussion 
wore  an  appearance  of  directness,  too  severe  to  admit 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  39 

of  any  license  of  ornament.  Yet,  in  the  judgment  of 
all  those  who  are  capable  of  appreciating  a  felicitous 
purity  and  aptness  of  language,  and  thoughts  of  vig- 
orous symmetry,  many  passages  in  his  sermons  rose  to 
the  highest  grade  of  eloquence,  coupled  as  they  were 
with  his  genuine  fervor  and  fire.  His  preaching  was 
rich  in  matter,  and  eminently  scriptural,  such  as  is 
best  fitted  to  feed  the  spiritual  mind.  It  was  always 
remarkable  for  its  elegance  and  elevation,  which  were 
never  tarnished  by  anything  coarse  in  allusion,  ludi- 
crous in  association,  or  bungling  in  structure.  But  it 
was,  the  least  of  all  men's,  a  finical  elegance.  It 
was  rather  that  of  an  energetic  and  lofty  simplicity. 
That  men  of  strictly  scholastic  training  and  pursuits 
should  excel  in  the  particular  v/ork  of  the  pulpit,  is 
rather  the  exception  ;  but  he  was  certainly  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  of  these  exceptions.  By  the  intelligent 
public  his  preaching  was  even  as  highly  esteemed  as 
his  professional  labors  were  by  intelligent  students. 

This  fact  is  dwelt  on,  because  it  contains  most  in- 
structive encouragement  to  all  beginners  in  the  pulpit 
work.  When  Dr.  Sampson  first  began  to  preach,  he 
was  far  from  being  an  easy  or  impressive  speaker. 
His  first  attempts  had  little  to  commend  them,  except 
that  excellence  of  composition  which  was  the  unavoid- 
able result  of  his  thorough  training  and  good  mind. 
He  labored  under  a  constraint  and  embarrassment, 
painful  to  himself  and  his  hearers.  His  voice  was  not 
modulated,  and  his  gesture  was  scant  and  unformed. 
But  every  effort  showed  improvement;  and  a  few 
years  of  diligent  exertion  placed  him  in  the  front  rank 


40  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

of  impressive,  pungent  and  fervent  pulpit  orators. 
His  voice  became  resonant  and  musical ;  his  action 
dignified  and  energetic. 

Such  an  example  should  effectually  remove  the  dis- 
couragements of  those  who  suppose  they  are  deficient 
in  pulpit  gifts ;  and  it  should  teach  all  to  feel  their 
responsibility  to  set  up  for  themselves  a  high  standard 
of  excellence,  and  to  be  satisfied  with  no  dull  me- 
diocrity in  sacred  oratory.  Provided  they  have  good 
sense  and  diligence,  let  them  not  persuade  themselves 
that  the  road  is  closed  up  to  them,  which  leads  to  the 
higher  grades  of  excellence  in  this  art.  The  things 
by  which  Dr.  Sampson  was  enabled  so  thoroughly  to 
overcome  his  original  defects,  were  undoubtedly  these: 
First,  there  was  his  superior  scholarship,  which  gave 
him  mental  furniture,  and  supplied  the  best  material 
upon  which  to  build  a  style.  Had  he  not  been  a  supe- 
rior scholar,  had  his  mind  not  been  thoroughly  drilled 
and  invigorated  by  its  inner  training,  his  early  manner 
would  never  have  been  improved  into  one  so  eminently 
good.  Next,  should  be  mentioned  the  modesty,  hu- 
mility and  ingenuousness  of  his  christian  character. 
He  learned  to  preach  well,  because  he  aimed  to  preach 
not  himself,  but  Jesus  Christ.  Those  words  of  our 
Saviour  proved  strictly  true,  in  their  application  to  his 
understanding  of  the  art  of  expressing  religious  truth  : 
•'  If  thine  eye  be  single,  thy  whole  body  shall  be  full 
of  light."  His  eye  was  single.  His  prevailing  pur- 
pose was  to  show  forth  the  way  of  life  :  and  his  taste 
was  not  perverted,  nor  his  manner  poisoned,  by  the 
itchings  of  conceit,  or  the  ambition  for  display.     And, 


OF    FKANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  41 

in  the  third  place,  he  was  diligent.  Not  only  did  he 
preach  much,  "  in  season  and  out  of  season,"  but  he 
preached  with  careful  and  laborious  preparation.  And 
where  there  is  a  natural  substratum  of  good  sense, 
unfettered  by  any  physical  defect,  these  means  will 
usually  be  sufficient  to  overcome  any  amount  of  inci- 
pient difficulties  or  failures,  and  to  make  any  man,  if 
not  an  orator  of  the  first  rank,  an  impressive  and 
pleasing  speaker. 


42  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 


CHAPTER     VI. 

Intellectual  Traits.     Genius  aud  Talent.     Symmetry.    Analytic  Faculty. 
Imagination.     Memory.     Candid  Estimate  of  bis  Powers. 

It  is  ill  the  life  and  acts  of  a  man  that  the  faculties 
and  traits  of  his  mind  make  themselves  known  to 
others.  Consequently,  the  preceding  exhibition  of 
Dr.  Sampson's  character  as  a  scholar,  teacher  and 
preacher,  is  also  a  portraiture,  in  some  sense,  of  his 
intellect.  No  more  is  necessary,  therefore,  than  to 
sum  up  the  whole  with  a  few  general  remarks.  Dr. 
Sampson  could  not  be  called  a  genius.  He  was  what 
is  far  better — a  man  of  high  talent.  His  mind  pre- 
sented nothing  that  was  salient  or  astonishing.  But 
this  was  not  so  much  because  there  was  not  power,  as 
because  it  was  power  symmetrically  developed.  His 
was  just  one  of  those  excellent  minds,  which  grow 
most,  and  longest,  by  good  cultivation.  In  wide  and 
adventurous  range,  his  speculative  powers  were  not 
equal  to  those  of  some  other  men  ;  but  in  power  of 
correct  analysis,  in  soundness  of  judgment  and  logical 
perspicacity,  he  was  superior  to  all  we  have  ever 
known,  except  a  very  few.  Indeed,  when  a  sp»>cu- 
lative  subject  was  fully  spread  out  before  his  mind  for 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  43 

consideration,  his  conclusions  seemed  to  be  guided  by 
a  penetration  and  justness  of  thought  almost  infalli- 
ble. This  consideration  was  deliberate ;  and  his  deci- 
sion was  very  rarely  expressed  with  haste,  or  even 
with  promptitude.  Hence  his  writings  and  conversa- 
tion never  exhibited  any  of  that  paradox,  or  that  bold 
novelty  and  dangerous  originality,  which  are  too  often 
mistaken  for  greatness.  His  talents,  if  they  had  less 
to  awaken  an  empty  astonishment  and  admiration, 
were  far  safer,  more  reliable  and  more  useful.  It  was 
hard  for  anything  sophistical  or  unsatisfactory  to  es- 
cape detection  under  his  steady  gaze.  He  was  par- 
ticularly free  from  that  common  fault  of  many  minds 
of  large  grasp :  the  adopting  of  major  propositions  so 
large  that  they  will  contain  the  conclusion  which  the 
reasoner  desires  to  derive  from  them ;  but  at  the  same 
time  so  shadowy,  that  they  contain  he  knows  not  how 
much  more. 

In  his  powers  of  arrangement,  he  was  undoubtedly 
superior  to  any  man  we  have  ever  known.  In  his 
mind,  the  elements  of  thought  seemed  to  group  them- 
selves always,  and  spontaneously,  into  the  most  philo- 
sophical order  possible,  with  a  regularity  like  that  of 
the  atoms  of  limpid  water,  when  they  crystallize  into 
transparent  ice. 

The  efforts  of  Dr.  Sampson's  imagination  were  ra- 
ther of  that  kind  which  Mr.  Macaulay  describes  in 
Sir  James  Macintosh.  They  consisted  not  so  much  in 
the  original  grouping  of  elements  into  new,  but  life- 
like forms,  as  in  selecting  appropriate  forms  already 
shaped  out,  from  the  stores  of  a  well  furnished  me- 


44  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND   CHARACTER 

mory.  In  those  severer  exercises  of  the  imagination, 
which  are  required  in  mathematical  thought  and  in 
the  bodying  forth  of  scientific  conceptions,  this  fa- 
culty was  eminently  distinct  and  vigorous.  But  in  its 
more  poetic  exercises  it  was  limited.  His  power  of 
calling  up  that  species  of  illustration  which  is  flowing 
and  graceful,  was  scanty ;  and  while  the  operations  of 
his  faculties,  especially  in  lecturing  and  preaching, 
were  unusually  fervent,  it  was  rather,  so  far  as  it  was 
not  spiritual,  the  dry  heat,  if  we  may  so  term  it,  of 
intellectual  animation,  than  the  glow  of  genial  fan- 
cies. And  yet,  there  were  a  few  occasions  on  which 
he  showed  a  high  measure  of  the  graphic  or  pictorial 
power;  which  might  indicate  that  this  faculty  was 
rather  disused  by  him  than  lacking  in  him.  Anotlier 
of  his  mental  peculiarities  has  been  already  hinted : 
his  almost  impracticable  honesty.  He  could  never  be 
induced  to  accept  a  proposition  unless  it  wholly  com- 
mended itself  to  his  mind  as  true.  His  memory  was 
most  retentive,  for  all  things  which  were  arranged  in 
it  by  any  logical  association ;  but  for  things  sole,  or 
merely  verbal,  it  was  sometimes  treacherous. 

Upon  the  whole,  considering  the  admirable  justness 
and  perspicacity  of  his  mind,  its  vigor  and  accuracy 
in  analysis,  its  wonderful  capacity  for  philosophical  ar- 
rangement, and  the  energy  of  its  purposes,  he  might 
have  been  truthfully  called  a  man  of  great  powers. 
The  symmetry  of  those  powers,  his  modesty  in  their 
display,  the  very  accuracy  of  thought  which  repressed 
all  those  paradoxical  brilliancies  that  catch  the  admira- 
tion of  the  crowd,  forbid  that  he  should  be  promptly 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  45 

^appreciated.  Hence  his  proper  grade  will  probably 
only  be  assigned  him  by  those  who,  like  the  writer, 
.had  opportunities  to  contemplate  his  mental  powers 
deliberately.  But  it  is  his  deliberate  judgment — a 
judgment  formed  maturely,  in  advance  of  that  warm 
personal  attachment  whi-ch  he  will  ever  esteem  one  of 
the  chief  blessings  and  honors  of  his  life,  that  Dr. 
Sampson,  for  his  particular  work,  possessed  capacities 
-unsurpaseed  by  any  man  which  our  country  has  pro- 
duced, and  equaled  by  very  few.  Happy  would  it 
^ave  been  for  our  churches  if  they  had  fully  known 
ids  Vv^ortlL 


46  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 


CHAPTER    VII. 

Failure  of  Health.  Fluctuatious  of  Disease.  Flattering  Hopes.  In- 
creased Diligeuce.  Dr.  Sampson's  last  Sermon.  Final  Attack.  Con- 
cern of  the  whole  Community.  Prayer  in  Presbytery.  Dying  Ex- 
ercises. 

In  the  early  spring  of  1846,  Dr.  Sampson's  ill  health 
began  with  a  terrible  pleurisy ;  which  was  immedi- 
ately provoked  by  fatigue  and  exposure  in  preaching 
the  Gospel,  but  doubtless  owed  its  more  remote  ori- 
gin to  the  prostration  of  vital  energy,  produced  by  the 
intense  application  we  have  described  above.  After 
imminently  threatening  his  life,  this  disease  was  sub- 
dued, but  it  did  not  leave  him  with  a  sound  constitu- 
tion. He  seemed  to  be  nearly  re-established :  and  es- 
pecially, on  his  return  from  Europe,  his  appearance  of 
health  and  vivacity  allayed  all  the  fears  of  his  friends. 
But  not  long  after,  he  experienced  another  irreparable 
shock,  in  a  severe  nervous  fever  which  overtook  him 
on  a  journey.  This  left  hira  with  a  nervous  system 
and  liver  painfully  deranged,  and  some  threatening  in- 
dications of  pulmonary  disease.  From  this  time  forth, 
he  seldom  knew  what  it  was  to  enjoy  comfortable 
strength.  His  most  distressing  symptoms  were  a 
feverish   excitability  of  pulse,  sleeplessness,  and   oc- 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  47 

casional  attacks  of  biliary  derangement,  which  pros- 
trated his  muscular  system  for  the  time.  But  during 
liis  last  session,  his  health,  cheerfulness  and  hopeful- 
ness seemed  to  revive ;  and  there  was  again  a  flatter- 
ing promise  of  re-established  strength  and  a  long  life. 
The  returning  prosperity  of  the  beloved  Seminary,  the 
renewed  and  substantial  assurances  of  interest  and  af- 
fection on  the  part  of  the  churches  and  ministry,  and 
the  steps  taken  towards  filling  the  vacancies  in  its 
faculty  and  dividing  his  responsibilities,  seemed  to  be 
cordials  to  his  mind  and  body.  His  enjoyment  of  the 
innocent  blessings  of  life  and  its  domestic  affections, 
w^as  intense,  and  his  hold  upon  it  was  strong. 

During  this  flattering  season,  he  seemed  to  be  con- 
scientiously husbanding  his  strength,  and  employing 
all  the  means  for  preserving  health.  Once  or  twice 
he  referred  to  the  repeated  and  grievous  blows,  which 
a  mysterious  Providence  had  inflicted  on  the  Seminary 
in  the  death  of  its  most  useful  servants,  and  pleasantly 
said  to  his  colleagues,  "It  is  our  duty  to  live  just  as 
long  as  we  can,  in  order  that  the  institution  may  have 
time  to  root  itself."  But  alas !  another  blast  was 
nearer  than  any  of  us  feared,  which  shook  its  still  un- 
settled strength,  not  less  grievously  than  any  which 
has  burst  upon  it,  since  that  which  smote  down  its 
great  founder  in  the  flower  of  his  strength  and  success. 
Nor  did  Dr.  Sampson  seem  to  be  without  anticipations 
of  its  approach.  While  he  said  nothing  directly,  and 
seemed  rather  to  avoid  any  allusions  to  the  previous 
symptoms,  threatening  his  health,  as  a  painful  subject, 
yet  the  thought  seemed  to  be  ever  treading  close  after 


48  CTHKISTIAN   LIFE    AND   CHAKACTEK 

his  eager  footsteps,  and  spiirring  liim  to  greater  diTi- 
gence,  *•  The  night  coraeth,  when  no  man  can  work^'^ 
More  than  once,  when  others  expostulated  with  him 
for  taxing  himself  beyond  bis  strength,  either  bj  the 
fervency  of  his  preaching,  or  the  vigor  with  which  he 
pushed  through  hia  Seminary  doties,  he  answered, 
*'  Perhaps  I  have  but  a  few  days  or  weeks  more  in 
which  to  do  my  task.  I  must  work  the  wm-ks  of  him 
that  sent  me,  while  it  is  day." 

And  even  so,  the  suramans  came,  to  him  not  un- 
awares, but  to  us  "  like  a  thunderbolt  from  a  cloudless 
sky."  Sunday,  the  second  of  April,  the  venerable 
pastor  being  absent,  he  preached  in  the  college  churchy 
from  Prov.  xi,  18.  "  The  wicked  worketh  a  deceitful 
work ;  but  to  him  that  sovveth  righteousuess,  shall  be 
a  sure  reward."  In  this  sermon  he  urged  the  contrast 
between  the  delusiveness  of  the  objects  pursued  by 
the  unbeliever,  and  the  glorious  sufficiency  and  cer- 
tainty of  the  believer's  reward,  with  a  power  of 
thought,  an  energy  of  manner,  and  a  fervor  of  affec- 
tion, which  could  not  have  been  surpassed,  if  he  had 
foreseen  that  this  was  his  last  message  to  his  fellow 
men,  and  had  poured  the  whole  soul  of  a  dying  man 
into  this  final  appeal.  As  we  left  the  church  that  day, 
we  felt  that  in  this  discourse  his  powers  as  a  preacher 
of  the  gospel  culminated.  From  that  meridian  height 
and  splendor  he  fell — nay,  rather,  he  rose ;  for  the  next 
Lord's  day  his  soul  (doubtless)  ascended  to  those 
heavenly  courts, 

"  Where  congregations  ne'er  break  up, 
And  Sabbaths  have  no  end." 


OP    THOMAS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  49 

After  attending  with  zest  upon  all  the  religious  ser- 
vices of  the  clay,  he  i-etired  to  rest,  apparently  in  his 
Visual  healtli — his  last  act  having  beesi  to  minister  to 
the  comfort  of  a  sick  s^ervant.  Before  the  n-ext  morn- 
ing he  was  violently  seized  with  what  seemed  at  first 
to  be  one  of  the  customary  bilious  attacks;  but  it 
proved  a  fatal  and  insidious  pneumonia.  Perhaps  it 
was  the  more  Rital,  b«cause  he  was  providentially  de- 
prived of  the  assistance  of  his  faithful  family  physician 
for  nearly  twenty-four  hours  after  his  first  attack. 
When  he  first  secured  medical  aid,  his  symptoms  were 
most  ominous ;  and  after  one  or  two  delusive  promises 
■of  relaxation,  the  disease  finished  its  deadly  work  on 
■Sabbath,  April  the  9th.  His  shattered  frame  had  not 
the  springs  of  an  effectual  resistance,  and  succumbed 
soon  before  -a  malady  whieh  is  terrible  even  to  the 
strongest. 

The  Wednesday  after  he  was  seized,  West  Hanover 
Presbytery  convesied  at  Brown's  church,  Cumberland, 
•about  fifteen  miles  from  the  Seminary.  Perhaps  the 
last  business  act  which  Dr.  Sampson  performed  was 
one  eminently  characteristic  of  his  punctuality.  It 
w^as  to  send,  by  one  of  his  colleagues,  his  excuse  for 
absence  from  Presbytery,  and  a  business  paper  of  some 
importance  to  a  third  person,  which  he  directed,  with 
a  special  charge,  to  be  placed  without  fail  in  the  hands 
of  the  moderator.  When  the  Presbytery  learned  his 
threatening  condition,  it  proceeded  at  once  to  set  apart 
a  season  of  special  intercession  on  his  behalf.  Highly 
as  he  had  been  appreciated  by  his  brethren  before, 
when  they  began  to  look  in  the  face  the  consequences 

7 


50  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

of  his  loss,  they  seemed  to  awaken  to  a  new  sense  of 
his  value  to  the  Seminary  and  the  church.  On  Friday, 
and  again  on  Saturday,  w  hen  persons  were  recognized 
approaching  the  church,  who  were  known  to  come 
direct  from  him,  the  house  was  almost  deserted  by  the 
members,  who  came  out,  by  an  iiTepressible  impulse, 
to  learn  his  state.  Friday,  when  it  was  reported  that 
there  was  a  faint  promise  of  amendment,  it  was  agreed 
that  the  Presbytery  should  again  unite  in  a  season  of 
intercession  on  his  behalf;  and  prayer  was  offered,  by 
the  revered  pastor  of  the  College  church,  with  a  faith, 
tenderness,  fervency  and  devout  submission,  which 
will  never  be  forgotten  to  the  dying  day  of  those  who 
heard  it.  Could  such  a  prayer  fail  to  enter  into  the 
ears  of  the  Lord  of  Sahaoth  ?  Doubtless  it  was  heard 
and  accepted ;  accepted  even  as  that  more  bitter  cry 
of  our  divine  Exemplar  was  accepted  :  "  Father,  if  it 
be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me ;  nevertheless, 
not  my  will,  but  thine,  be  done."  "  It  is  enough  for 
the  disciple  to  be  as  his  Master."  In  all  the  congre- 
gations which  received  the  news  of  our  brother's 
danger,  prayer  was  also  made  of  the  church  unto  God 
for  him.  The  anxiety  of  the  whole  community  con- 
cerning him  revealed  that  he  had  a  hold  upon  their 
respect  and  affections,  which  would  not  have  been  ex- 
pected, if  we  remembered  that  his  pursuits  had  been 
chiefly  those  of  the  study,  and  that  he  was  rather 
among  the  people  than  of  them.  Persons  going  from 
the  Seminary  were  everywhere  stopped  in  the  road 
by  enquiries  after  his  condition,  in  which  there  was  a 
deep  concern  and  tenderness,  which  came  from  the 
heart. 


-OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  51 

His  religious  exercises  were  just  those  of  which  liis 
christian  life  gave  promise — without  fear,  for  he  had 
long  lived  in  the  assurance  of  hope ;  and  without 
transport,  for  a  disease  so  violent  and  prostrating  left 
no  animal  spirits  for  such  feelings,  foreign  as  they  were 
at  all  times,  to  his  religious  habits.  Early  in  his  sick- 
ness, but  after  his  disease  had  manifested  itself  as  a 
dangerous  one,  he  remarked  to  one  of  his  nurses,  "  I 
find  now,  what  I  have  always  felt,  that  a  sick  bed  is 
no  place  to  prepare  for  eternity.  But  I  have  not  that. 
to  do.  I  long  ago  made  my  peace  with  God.  The 
God  I  have  feebly  preached  to  others  is  my  support." 

His  disease,  attacking  as  it  -did  the  lungs,  made 
talking  botli  painful  and  injurious;  and  he  and  all 
about  him  were  strongly  inhibited  by  the  pliysicians 
to  converse  much.  He  yielded  an  implicit  obedience, 
remarking  several  times,  "My  life  belongs  not  to  my- 
self, but  to  the  church,  the  Seminary,  my  family,  and 
to  society  ;  and  it  is  my  duty  now  not  to  consult  my 
own  inclinations,  but  conscientiously  to  observe  the 
means  of  preserving  life,  as  long  as  there  is  any  hope." 
Indeed,  he  seemed  to  study  calmness  of  emotions,  and 
even  to  avert  his  mind  from  those  objects  which  would 
excite  the  more  near  domestic  aftections,  which  were,  to 
one  blessed  as  he  was,  so  tender,  and  in  the  prospect 
of  their  interruption,  so  harrowing.  Thus  he  observed 
the  means  of  life  with  the  same  composed,  conscien- 
tious principle  with  which  he  had  usually  axldressed 
himself  to  any  other  duty. 

During  the  later  and  more  decisive  assaults  of  his 
(disease,  reason  at  times  wavered  on  her  seat.     In  his 


52  CHRISTIAN'    LIFE    AND    CHARACTEIC 

lucid  moments  he  complained  tliat  his  mind  was  filled 
witli  a  teeming  multitiKle  of  thoughts,  new,  varied^ 
strange — some  of  them  perplexed  and  ti'oublous,  some 
luminous  and  interesting.  May  it  not  be  that  this  was- 
the  strife  between  the  bcdimming,  enervatiag  do- 
minion of  the  flesh  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  dawnings. 
of  that  nobler  life  to  w^hich  the  spirit  rises  when  it 
bursts  from  the  mortal  coil,  on  the  other :  and  as  the 
doubtful  tide  of  combat  rolled  to  and  fro,,  the  shadows 
of  earth-born  dimness  and  confusion  were  alternating 
with  gleams  of  Heaven's  own  light  over  his.  soul  ? 

In  these  seasons  the  influence  of  his  predominant 
tastes  and  pursuits  was  strongly  visible.  His  mind 
was  busy  with  the  Word  of  God,  expounding,  oir 
investigating   its    treasures   in   the    original    tongues. 

Three  days  before  his  death  he  said,  "  It  seems  to 
me  that  all  the  difficult  jiassages  of  Scripture  I  have 
ever  investigated  are  present  to  my  eye  now,  in 
Greek,  Hebrew,  or  Chaldee,  and  all  clamoring  for 
settlement.  But  I  tell  them  all,  Go  away,  I  am  sick, 
and  cannot  attend  to  you."  The  last  c4^  these  seasons. 
of  wandering  was  the  morning  of  the  Lord's  day  on 
which  he  died.  During  this  he  said  to  one  of  his. 
nurses,  "See  that  w^all — it  is  all  written  over  with 
Scripture  promises ;  and  they  are  in  letters  so  large 
that  I  can  read  them  every  one."  It  was  answered^ 
"  Oh  no,  there  is  nothing  there,  except  the  plastering."" 
But  he  persisted,  "  Yes — ^they  are  there — cannot  I  see 
them?  Lay  your  head  here,  beside  mine,  and  then 
you  will  see  them  plain."  She  wisiiing  to  beguile 
him  into  more  composure  said,  "  Oh,  don't  think  of 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  53 

these  things — shut  your  eyes,  and  try  to  be  quiet." 
"Why,"  replied  he,  "  May  I  not  read  them?  I  know 
it  is  the  Sabbath  ;  but  they  are  all  Sunday  reading — 
they  are  all  from  the  Scripture." 

Now,  whence  were  those  characters,  invisible  to  all 
others,  but  so  distinct  to  his  failing  eye-sight  ?  Doubt- 
less, they  were  recalled  from  the  stores  of  recollection, 
where  they  had  lain  hid,  apparently  lost  to  himself,  by 
a  memory  stimulated  into  preternatural  activity,  either 
by  the  approach  of  the  spirit's  release  from  material 
bonds,  or  by  the  inexplicable  influence  of  disease. 
And  now  the  vivid  conception  was  so  bodied  forth  to 
the  mind's  eye,  in  the  season  of  excitement,  as  to  seem 
to  him  actually  pictured  on  the  diseased  retina,  where 
the  real  images  of  the  external  world  were  fading 
dimly  into  darkness.  And  thus  the  walls  were  covered, 
to  his  eye,  with  the  ample  scrolls  of  a  memory  en- 
riched by  years  of  study.  How  mercifully  does  God 
deal  with  his  children  ?  Here  it  was  so  ordered,  that 
those  hours,  which,  in  our  apprehensions,  we  only 
think  of  as  filled  with  anguish  and  fear,  were  beguiled 
with  the  contemplation  of  those  sacred  truths  which 
had  been  his  delight  in  health.  And  is  there  not  here 
another  illustration  of  that  theory  which  seems  so  like 
truth — that  every  impression  ever  made  on  the  mem- 
ory, though  it  may  seem  to  us  obliterated,  is  still  there, 
and  will  some  day  be  revived,  that  man's  soul  is  but  a 
fearful  ''Palimpsest,''*  where  the  earlier  records  are, 
only  in  seeming,  removed  to  make  way  for  the  later, 
and  all  the  labarynthine  history  will  stand  out  in  let- 

*  De  Quuicey. 


54  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AXD    CHARACTER 

ters  of  ligbt,  genial  or  lurid,  to  be  reread  by  tbe  soul 
in  eternity. 

But  after  this,  Dr.  Sampson  became  more  composed, 
and  his  self-possession  returned  completely  ;  nor  did  it 
leave  him  again  till  the  last  moment.  The  strife  be- 
tween the  powers  of  life  and  disease  was  decided  ; 
pain  ceased,  and  he  gently  passed  away.  A  few  hours 
before  the  closing  scene,  his  children  were  placed 
around  his  bed  side,  to  receive  his  last  words :  but  the 
effort  to  speak  to  them  was  so  laborious,  that  at  the 
suggestion  of  one  of  the  physicians,  he  relinquished  it. 
After  they  retired,  he  said  with  the  most  extreme  diffi- 
culty, gasping  a  word  at  a  time  in  whispers,  between 
his  labored  respirations  :  "  I  had  some  things  which  I 
wished  to  say  to  them ;  but  perhaps  it  is  most  wisely 
ordered  that  I  should  not  say  them.  They  know  how 
I  have  lived.  I  have  always  taught  them  that  God's 
Word  is  the  only  supreme  rule  of  life.  They  have 
that — and  it  is  enough.  Perhaps  they  might  have  put 
my  last  words  before  God's  Word."  This  was  the  last 
connected  sentence  he  spoke. 

How  could  he,  whose  business  was  to  expound  the 
Sacred  Scriptures,  have  closed  his  life  more  appro- 
priately, than  with  such  an  acquiescence  in  their  com- 
plete sufficiency — coming  as  it  did  from  the  heart  of  a 
dying  father  ? 

Thus  he  quietly  passed  away,  about  5  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon.  The  following  Tuesday,  he  was  borne  to 
the  grave,  in  the  Seminary  burying  ground,  b}'  the 
hands  of  his  pupils,  and  in  the  pi-esence  of  a  multi- 
tude, ever}^  one  of  whom  seemed  a  sincere  mourner. 


OF    FRANCI9    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  55 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

Practical  Teachings  of  such  a  Life.  Eeward  of  Patience  and  Faith. 
Humility  crowued  with  Honoi-.  The  Price  of  great  Usefulness. 
Home  Institutions  must  be  sustained.  Men  of  deep  toned  Piety  and 
profound  Scholarship  demanded. 

And  here  we  should  end  our  task,  if  we  listened  only 
to  the  promptings  of  our  own  feelings— leaving  this 
life  and  this  death  to  speak  for  themselves.  But  it  is 
necessary  that  we  should  endeavor  to  enforce,  more 
pointedly,  a  few  of  the  impressive  lessons  which  Pro- 
vidence has  taught  us  in  giving,  and  then  taking,  such 
a  man.  Of  the  appeal  which  his  example  speaks  to 
the  pious  youth  of  our  churches,  to  devote  themselves 
wholly  to  God,  of  the  loss  which  the  Seminary  and  the 
Presbyterian  church  has  sustained,  of  the  darkness  of 
this  act  of  her  head,  and  of  the  duty  of  implicit  trust 
in  the  righteousness  of  his  mysterious  dealings,  nothing 
will  be  said. 

But  looking  back  to  the  source  of  Dr.  Sampson's 
christian  life,  in  the  holy  example,  prayers  and  instruc- 
tions of  the  Rev.  Thornton  Rogers,  we  see  a  delight- 
ful illustration  of  the  truth,  that  "he  which  convert- 
eth  the  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  ways,"  not  only 
"  saveth  a  soul  from  death,  but  hideth  a  multitude  of 


56  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AXD    CHARACTER 

sins."  When  that  good  man  labored  in  faith  for  the 
salvation  of  his  irreligious  pupil,  he  little  knew  what 
he  was  doing.  His  thought  was  to  pluck  him  from 
perdition,  and  to  make  him  a  christian,  possibly  an 
humble  minister.  He  did  not  know  that  he  was  in- 
strumentally  contributing  the  most  essential  part  to- 
wards the  raising  up  of  a  master  in  Israel,  whose 
steady  and  benign  light  was  to  be  a  blessing  to  two 
great  commonwealths,  and  whose  christian  virtues 
were  to  be  reproduced  in  many  scores  of  pastors, 
many  of  them,  in  their  turn,  pillars  in  the  church, 
and  fountains  of  an  influence,  national  in  its  extent ! 
Nor  do  we  know,  when  we  endeavor  to  do  good,  with 
how  glorious  a  result  our  generous  master  may  reward 
us.  Let  us,  then,  not  be  weary  in  well  doing.  Mr. 
Rogers  died  in  the  prime  of  his  life,  and  his  friends 
mourned  over  the  mystery  of  such  a  stroke  upon  such 
a  man,  as  we  have  lately  over  the  loss  of  his  more 
eminent  pupil.  But,  if  his  ministerial  life  had  re- 
sulted in  nothing  else  but  the  gift  of  one  such  man 
to  the  church,  would  it  not  have  been  a  sufficient 
result? 

Again.  The  weakness  of  our  faith  often  staggers  at 
sacrifices  of  worldly  good  to  be  made,  and  difficulties 
to  be  encountered,  in  the  path  of  duty.  Let  all  to 
whom  the  voice  of  God  comes,  learn  by  the  example 
of  our  brother,  to  dismiss  these  fears,  and  trust  the 
united  command  and  promise,  "  Trust  in  the  Lord 
and  do  good ;  so  shalt  thou  dwell  in  the  land,  and 
verily  thou  shalt  be  fed."  It  was  required  of  Dr. 
Sampson,  in  order  to  become  a  minister  of  the  Gos- 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSOX,    D.    D.  57 

pel,  to  relinquish,  apparently,  the  direct  road  to 
wealth  and  distinction.  In  following  the  beck  of  his 
master,  he  was  compelled  to  brave  many  obstacles, 
and  face  threatening  privations.  But  they  were,  at 
last,  little  more  than  threats.  By  the  divine  blessing 
on  his  own  economy  and  industry,  he  was  able  at  all 
times  to  surround  himself,  and  those  dear  to  him,  with 
the  comforts  and  decencies  of  life  ;  and  these  increased 
ultimately  to  an  ample  competency.  His  temporal 
life  knew  no  real  want ;  and  there  was  no  actual  sac- 
rifice of  that  external  comfort  with  which  unbelief 
would  have  scared  him  from  his  duty.  And  after 
all — in  seeking  the  testimony  of  a  good  conscience 
towards  God,  he  found  that  distinction  which  he  had 
not  sought ;  he  gratified  his  friends  by  winning  a  far 
higher  social  position  than  that  which  he  seemed  to 
relinquish  to  serve  Grod  ;  and  became  the  ornament 
and  pride  of  his  family.  Let  no  man  be  afraid  to 
trust  God. 

We  find  in  the  foregoing  history  also,  a  beautiful 
example  of  the  honor  which  comes  to  true  humility. 
If  there  was  one  moral  trait  pre-eminent  in  Dr.  Samp- 
son, it  was  modesty.  The  desire  for  self-display 
seemed  to  be  foreign  to  his  nature.  He  ever  thought 
others  better  than  himself.  He  never  schemed  or 
planned  for  promotion,  but  was  guided  by  a  magnani- 
mous and  elevated  delicacy,  which  refused  to  lift  a 
finger,  even  by  any  honorable  competition,  to  secure 
distinction  for  himself.  And  in  every  public  position, 
on  the  floor  of  every  church  court,  his  humility  shrank 
from  that  prominence  to  which  his  wisdom  entitled 


68  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

him.  But  while,  with  a  single  eye,  forgetful  of  self, 
he  was  taking  care  of  his  master's  interests,  that  mas- 
ter took  care  of  his  reputation.  Though  his  position 
was  one  of  scholastic  privacy,  and  his  talents  were 
rather  solid  than  brilliant,  he  steadily  grew  upon  the 
appreciation  of  his  brethren,  until  his  early  death 
found  him  enjoying  a  confidence,  love  and  admiration, 
solid  and  extensive  enough  to  satisfy  any  ambition. 
Where  is  the  man,  of  only  thirty-nine  years,  within 
the  limits  of  the  whole  Presbyterian  church,  whose 
death  would  now  leave  a  gap  harder  to  be  filled,  or 
excite  a  sorrow  more  general  and  sincere  ? 

AVhile  our  brother  sought  out  the  lowest  seat,  God 
said  to  him,  and  the  church  repeated,  "  Go  up  higher." 
Would  that  this  example  might  seal  upon  the  heart 
of  every  young  minister  in  our  church  the  lesson, 
"Every  one  that  exalteth  himself  shall  be  abased,  and 
he  that  humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted."  Would 
that  all  the  unworthy  arts  of  an  unsanctified  ambition 
were  as  unknown  in  the  church  as  they  were  in  the 
conduct  of  this  pure,  christian  gentleman.  They  are 
as  foolish  and  suicidal  as  they  are  unworthy. 

The  results  of  Dr.  Sampson's  life  and  labors  pre- 
sent a  painful — yea,  almost  a  cruel  illustration  of  the 
evils  which  have  more  than  once  flowed  from  the  tardy 
and  partial  co-operation,  extended  by  our  churches  at 
the  south,  to  their  own  public  institutions.  Here  were 
industry,  talents  and  acquirements  that  would  have 
been  sought  after  and  valued  by  the  largest  theolo- 
gical schools  in  the  land.  Believing  that  God's  provi- 
dence pointed  him  to  Union  Seminary  as  his  post,  he 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  59 

poured  out  the  riches  of  his  mental  treasures  in  her 
service.  And  to  purchase  what?  Was  it  a  worthy- 
result  of  such  a  life,  or  a  sufficient  recompense  for  such 
an  expenditure,  to  train  a  body  of  pupils,  ranging, 
during  the  sixteen  years  of  his  labors,  from  eleven  to 
twenty?  Let  us  not  be  misunderstood.  We  know 
that,  intrinsically,  the  training  of  one  true  minister — 
yea,  the  salvation  of  one  soul,  is  worth  the  whole  la- 
bors of  an  army  of  the  most  learned  divines  during 
their  whole  life.  And  were  there  but  the  one  soul  in 
the  world,  liable  to  perdition,  it  would  be  the  part  of 
sober  wisdom  to  expend  all  of  this  labor  in  its  behalf 
alone.  But  while  the  field  is  so  vast,  and  so  white  to 
the  harvest,  and  opportunities  for  doing  good  open  so 
immeasurably  before  the  eye  of  christian  enterprise,  it 
is  a  waste  to  expend,  for  a  very  few,  labors  and  talents 
which  might  elsewhere  have  blessed  a  multitude.  We 
may  securely  ask.  this  question.  Suppose  that  the 
warmest  friends  of  Union  Seminary  in  1838,  being 
also  the  true  friends  of  Dr.  Sampson  and  of  Christ's 
cause,  could  have  foreseen  that  he  had  just  sixteen 
precious  years  to  labor;  that  he  would  soon  attain 
such  eminent  capacities  for  his  work;  and  that  in 
spite  of  his  acknowledged  abilities,  the  lack  of  hearty 
co-operation  and  wise  and  seasonable  effort  on  the 
part  of  others,  would  cabin  and  confine  his  field  of 
usefulness  to  this  narrow  bound — would  they  them- 
selves have  been  willirg,  would  they  have  dared,  to 
urge  him  to  make  the  unequal  sacrifice  ?  A  regard  to 
the  interests  of  Christ's  kingdom  w^ould  have  forbid- 
den  it.     They  would  have  said,    "  We  dare  not  sel- 


60  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

fishly  expend  so  nuicli,  for  so  small  a  result.  The  field 
is  the  world.  Let  him  go  where,  being  better  sus- 
tained, he  can  effect  something  larger  for  his  master." 
But  they  hoped  better  things  for  their  own  enterprise  ; 
and  hoping,  they  honestly  invited  him  to  enlist  in  that 
important  cause,  in  which  they  were  sincerely  strug- 
gling. He  obeyed  the  call.  He  toiled  on,  hoping 
against  hope,  with  magnanimous  self-devotion ;  and 
most  likely,  sacrificed  not  only  his  labors,  but  his  life, 
an  expenditure  partially  useless,  in  endeavoring  to  bear 
his  unequal  burden.  And  now,  after  the  catastrophe, 
as  liis  friends  stand  over  the  grave  of  so  much  that  was 
noble  in  morals,  wise  in  understanding  and  vigorous  in 
action,  they  feel  a  regret,  cruel,  yea,  immedicable,  ex- 
cept by  the  submissiveness  of  faith,  that  his  precious 
life  was,  in  part,  spent  in  vain.  Not  in  vain,  thank 
God  !  as  to  fiis  reward,  nor  useless  as  to  those  indirect 
results,  which,  we  trust,  the  wisdom  and  grace  of  God 
will  bring  out  of  his  labors  and  example.  But  he  was 
permitted  to  reap  but  a  part  of  those  abundant  fruits 
which  such  labors  should  have  earned,  in  his  own  life 
time,  in  such  a  country  and  such  an  age  as  ours.  And 
this  regret  is  ever  embittered  by  the  symptoms  of  re- 
turning prosperity  and  extending  usefulness,  which 
now  appear  in  his  darling  institution.  How  touching 
the  fiite,  that  after  sixteen  years  of  toil,  and  hopes 
deferred,  he  was  sniitched  away  just  as  the  smiles  of 
success  began  to  gladden  his  heart !  But  here,  our 
regret  is  softened  by  the  thought,  that  he  has  entered 
upon  a  reward  of  his  lal)ors  far  sweeter  than  that  of  a 
visible  success. 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  61 

But  this  is  not  the  first  (would  that  it  might  be  the 
last)  instance,  in  which  our  people  have  been  half 
aroused  by  a  partial  sense  of  our  social  necessities,  so 
as  to  set  on  foot  some  weak  and  half  endowed  effort 
for  their  supply.  And  then  they  supinely  relax,  and 
even  make  the  half  starved  weakness  of  those  institu- 
tions which  they  call  their  own,  and  whose  ill  success 
is  their  own  loss  and  shame,  the  pretext  for  bestowing 
their  indolent  and  heedless  favors  on  foreign  institu- 
tions, which  are  flourishing  and  popular  because  their 
natural  owners  and  supporters,  with  a  wiser  forecast 
and  energy,  stood  by  them  in  their  weakness.  Mean- 
time, those  nobler  spirits,  who  have  been  thrust  for- 
ward into  the  breach,  and  whose  clearer  vision  sees  the 
vital  importance  of  home  enterprises  to  all  our  vital 
interests,  wear  away  the  springs  of  life,  in  a  generous 
but  useless  sacrifice.  And  meantime  the  common- 
wealth, for  the  lack  of  these  home  institutions,  lags 
farther  and  farther  in  the  rear,  and  sends  forth  her 
money,  her  sons,  her  energies,  her  life  blood,  to  fecun- 
date the  soils  and  adorn  the  fame  of  rival  states ! 
Must  a  hecatomb  of  lier  noblest  lives  be  immolated, 
before  the  slumbering  spirit  of  Virginia  will  awake  to 
know  and  embrace  her  own  interests  ? 

But  yet,  as  long  as  there  is  hope  of  Virginia,  that 
"  she  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth,"  let  her  sons  hear  the 
voice  which  demands  that  they  shall  be  satisfied  with 
none  but  the  highest  acquirements.  In  the  example 
which  we  have  been  contemplating,  the  young  minis- 
ters of  our  church  may  see  the  importance,  and  the 
solemn  obligation  of  aiming  at  the  highest  standard  of 


62  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

theological  learning.  If  the  church,  if  our  Synods, 
would  retain  their  respectability  and  influence,  they 
must  have  a  reserved  corj)s  of  men,  whose  well-trained 
faculties,  wide  scholarship,  and  elevated  character, 
will  fit  them  to  step  at  once  into  any  of  our  places  of 
trust  and  responsibility.  Otherwise,  we  are  reduced 
to  one  of  two  equally  mortifying  and  ruinous  alterna- 
tives, to  commit  those  responsible  posts  to  ill-furnished 
and  incompetent  men,  who  w^ill  betray  the  influence 
and  character  of  our  enterprises,  in  this  age  of  hono- 
rable competition  and  vigorous  progress'  in  all  other 
sections  of  our  land,  or  else  to  go  begging  to  other 
sections,  to  get  such  men  as  they  can  afford  to  spare 
us.  Have  these  Synods  such  a  body  of  reserved  talent 
and  learning  now?  If  the  valuable  men,  who  now 
fill  the  professorships  and  presidencies  of  our  Presby- 
terian Colleges  and  State  Universities,  were  removed 
by  death,  could  the  Synods  point  with  confidence  to 
sons  of  theirs,  and  tell  them  to  step  into  the  breaches, 
and  account  them  fitted  to  take  up  the  fallen  mantles? 
If  the  chairs  of  our  Seminary  were  vacated,  would  or 
would  not  the  Synods  be  at  fault,  in  their  search  for 
successors,  to  whom  they  could  confidingly  commit 
those  important  posts  ?  When  Dr.  Sampson  fell  pre- 
maturely, did  they  feel  that  it  was  easy  to  find  many 
men  in  their  borders,  from  among  whom  to  select  his 
successor  ? 

It  is  not  necessary  that  these  questions  be  answered 
here.  There  may  be  an  evil  in  the  church  far  more 
portentous  than  a  stinted  supply  of  ministers.  It  is 
that   which    comes,  when  her  younger   ministry   are 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  63 

satisfied  with  those  more  shallow  attainments,  which 
secure  them  a  modicum  of  popular  applause  and  favor, 
indolently  recline  upon  the  dependence  of  a  facile  and 
plausible  pulpit  talent,  and  relax  those  severer  studies, 
by  which  the  profound  scholar  is  formed.  It  is  an 
evil  which  strikes  at  the  root  of  our  prosperity,  and 
when  it  prevails,  can  only  be  repaired  at  the  root,  and 
therefore,  repaired  tediously.  For  these  surface  men 
cannot  even  reproduce  their  kind,  sorry  as  is  their 
kind,  and  the  general  prevalence  of  such  a  type  of 
ministerial  acquirement  renders  inevitable  a  subse- 
quent dearth  of  even  second  rate  ministers,  and  a  state 
of  starveling  dependence  on  other  sections. 

We  therefore  beseech  our  young  brethren,  as  for  our 
life,  to  imitate  the  noble  example  which  God  has  mer- 
cifully given  our  Zion  in  our  lost  brother,  and  to  re- 
solve that  they  will  be  satisfied  with  nothing  short  of 
the  fullest  development  of  faculties,  the  soundest  ac- 
quirements, and  the  most  scriptural,  humble  and  manly 
piety,  which  are  within  the  reach  of  the  most  sustained 
diligence.  This  is  no  less  the  command  of  duty,  than 
of  a  sanctified  ambition.  We  are  to  love  and  serve 
God  with  all  our  heart,  and  mind,  and  strength,  and 
soul.  We  are  partially  guilty  of  burying  our  talents, 
unless  we  prepare  ourselves  to  meet  the  highest  ex- 
igencies which  are  within  the  possibilities  of  our  natu- 
ral gifts. 

In  the  life  of  Dr.  Sampson,  we  see  how  directly  that 
kind  of  scholarship  which  is  usually  esteemed  least 
practical  in  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  an  extensive  ac- 
quaintance with  oriental  literature,  was  made  to  sub- 


G4    ■  CHRISTIAN    LIFE    AND    CHARACTER 

serve  tlie  interests  of  the  churcli — yen,  ]jo\v  imme- 
diately and  necessarily  those  interests  would  have 
suffered,  for  the  lack  of  them. 

If  there  is  one  thing  proved  by  an  experience  of 
some  twenty-five  years,  it  is,  that  none  but  first  rate 
men  can  now  effectually  subserve  the  institutions  and 
interests  of  these  Synods,  in  their  prominent  posts. 
To  secure  so  many  such  men  as  they  will  need,  there 
must  be  a  liberal  number,  especially  among  their 
younger  ministry,  capable  of  the  greatest  things,  from 
among  whom  they  may  choose.  We  do  not  expect  to 
find  plants  of  tallest  and  most  vigorous  growth  among 
the  few  untimely  shoots  which  spring  up  here  and 
there  in  the  season  of  wintry  sterility.  We  expect  to 
find  them  all  puny,  for  the  same  reason  which  makes 
them  few.  And  if  one  is  found  truly  vigorous,  it  is  a 
true  hmis  naturce.  We  look  for  the  full  grown  plant 
amidst  the  teeming  abundance  of  the  fmitful  summer, 
and  in  the  thickest  part  of  a  thick  and  emulous  crop. 

Unless  we  have,  then,  such  a  body  of  noble  men, 
"  whose  hearts  God  hath  touched,"  we  do  not  say  our 
cause  is  lost,  but  we  say  that  success,  worthy  of  the 
cause,  is  impossible.  The  church  expects  every  man 
to  be  the  greatest  he  can  be.  She  needs  men  who 
have  begun,  in  the  first  place,  by  laying  the  founda- 
tion of  a  thorough  and  full  academical  course,  which 
entirely  transcends  that  scanty  range  of  scholarship 
which  is  too  often  the  limit  of  our  collegiate  courses ; 
or  else,  if  this  is  lacking,  men  who  have  repaired  the 
lack  by  the  herculean  exertions  of  later  years.  Then, 
they  must  be  men  who  superadd  to  this  not  only  such 


OF    FRANCIS    S.    SAMPSON,    D.    D.  65 

a  theological  training  as  will  pass  them  creditably- 
through  Presbyteries,  and  suffice  for  the  making  of 
genteel  little  sermons,  but  a  thorough  and  ever  widen- 
ing knowledge  of  the  original  languages  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  the  doings  and  doctrines  of  the  great  mas- 
ters of  theology  in  all  ages.  They  must  also  be  men 
free  from  trivial  but  odious  tricks  of  personal  indul- 
gence or  weakness — men,  whose  directness  of  aim, 
whose  humble  dignity  of  character,  whose  self  posses- 
sion, whose  fervent  energy  in  doing  good  will  impress 
and  awe  the  popular  mind.  For,  without  these  moral 
traits,  brilliant  faculties  and  acquirements  will  be  to 
the  church  little  more  than  splendid  vexations.  And 
last — they  must  be  men  whose  eye  is  single,  whose 
hearts  and  purposes  are  governed  by  a  profound  and 
steady  love  of  God.  Such  was  Francis  S.  Sampson. 
Would  that  all  the  sons  of  our  church  might  be  such. 
She  has  had  no  more  pure,  more  symmetrical,  more 
elevated  example,  to  which  she  may  point  her  young 
ministers  and  members,  and  say,  "Be  ye  followers  of 
him,  even  as  he  also  was  of  Christ." 


SERMONS 


SERMON   I. 

Proverbs,  xxix,  1.—"  He  that,  being  often  reproved,  hardeneth  his 
neck,  shall  suddenly  be  destroyed,  and  that  without  remedy." 

It  is  plain,  from  Scripture  and  from  facts  familiar  to 
every  observing  and  reflecting  mind,  that  there  is  a 
controversy  between  man  and  his  Maker.  It  is  plain, 
too,  that  all  the  guilt  of  this  controversy  must  be 
chargeable  upon  man;  that,  while  its  adjustment 
would  be  to  his  infinite  gain,  its  continuance  must 
result  in  his  infinite  loss  ;  that  God,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  perfectly  holy  and  happy  in  himself,  altogether  in- 
dependent of  the  creature,  who  can  neither  add  to 
his  essential  glory,  nor  detract  from  it  in  the  least. 
And  yet  the  history  of  redemption  discloses  this  re- 
markable fact,  that  every  proposal  for  a  reconciliation 
of  this  difference  has  proceeded  from  God  only,  and 
that  he  has  provided  all  the  means  necessary  to  secure 
it,  while  man  has  ever  maintained  the  attitude  of  a 
thoughtless,  sinful,  and,  if  left  to  himself,  persevering 
rejecter  of  all  his  proffers  of  peace. 

It  is  my  purpose,  on  the  present  occasion,  to  review 
some  of  the  methods  by  which  God  administers  his 
reproofs  and  presents  his  calls  to  a  settlement  of  this 
controversy,  and  then  to  consider  the  awful  conse- 
quences that  must  befall  the  man  who,  in  the  language 
of  the  text,  "  hardens  his  neck"  against  them. 


70  SERMON    I. 

I. — 1.  I  observe,  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  God 
frequently  reproves  and  loudly  calls  sinners  by  his 
'providences. 

These  providences  are  both  prosperous  and  adverse, 
merciful  and  afflictive ;  but  strange  to  tell,  the  former 
greatly  exceed  the  latter.  Everywhere  around  us  we 
see  the  bountiful  goodness  of  God :  daily  we  are  our- 
selves the  too  thoughtless,  thankless  recipients  of  un- 
numbered blessings.  God  speaks  to  us  for  the  most 
part  kindly,  and  always  in  love.  There  are  very  few 
who  do  not  experience  more  largely  of  his  mercies 
than  of  his  judgments  :  there  is  not  one  who  does  not 
receive  infinitely  more  and  better  things  than  he  de- 
serves. Of  his  judgments  we  all  see  more  than  we 
suffer :  of  his  mercies  we  all  share  freely,  while  we 
merit  none. 

The  goodness  of  God  invites  us  to  repentance.  He 
makes  his  appeals  to  our  gratitude,  to  lead  us  back  to 
obedience.  We  have  forfeited  his  favor,  but  he  mani- 
fests his  unwillingness  to  cast  us  off,  until  the  various 
expedients  of  his  love  have  been  tried.  By  unceasing 
kindness  he  would  draw  us  back  from  the  world,  and 
ffather  our  affections  around  himself.  He  would  re- 
gain  our  confidence  by  constant  displays  of  his  for- 
bearance and  renewed  evidences  of  his  compassion. 

But  God  also  speaks  to  us  by  severer  dispensations 
of  his  providence.  These,  as  I  have  already  said,  we 
are  oftener  called  upon  to  witness  in  others,  and  learn 
the  lesson  which  they  are  designed  to  impart,  without 
having  it  impressed  upon  us  by  sad  experience  of  our 
own  :    but  not  unfrequently  God    does  lay  his  hand 


SERMON    I.  71 

heavily  upon  ourselves,  and  warn  us,  in  a  way  that  we 
cannot  but  hear,  if  we  will  not  heed.  Our  earthly 
fortunes  are  blasted  in  the  full  tide  of  enjoyment ;  our 
cherished  hopes  are  disappointed  in  the  near  prospect 
of  a  happy  consummation.  Our  best  laid  schemes  are 
ever  liable  to  defeat ;  our  brightest  anticipations  often 
terminate  in  vanity.  Health  fails  us  in  the  vigor  of 
our  days,  and  in  the  hour  of  fancied  security  we  are 
brought  nigh  to  the  grave.  Friends  desert  us  in  the 
time  of  our  greatest  need ;  foes  multiply  when  our 
means  of  defense  are  fewest  and  feeblest.  Our  nearest 
kindred  are  taken  from  our  embrace,  when  our  heart's 
affections  are  most  entwined  around  them ;  the  strongest 
ties  that  bind  us  to  the  world  are  often,  in  quick  suc- 
cession, severed  forever. 

I  would  affectionately  ask  my  hearers.  Are  any  of 
you  strangers  to  these  things  ?  Is  there  one  here  to 
whom  God  has  never  spoken  in  some  one  or  more  of 
these  and  such  like  methods  ?  Have  his  mercies  been 
so  multiplied  to  you  and  around  you,  that  his  judg- 
ments have  been  even  far  out  of  your  sight  ?  Has  he 
never  laid  you  on  a  bed  of  sickness,  and  taught  you  to 
feel  that  you  ought  to  make  your  peace  with  him  be- 
fore the  great  day  of  his  judgment  shall  come?  Has 
he  never  impressed  upon  your  mind  the  paramount 
importance  of  eternal  things,  and  the  high  interest  you 
have  in  laying  up  treasure  in  Heaven,  by  giving  wings 
to  your  earthly  riches,  frustrating  your  worldly  pro- 
jects, disappointing  your  cherished  hopes,  or  humbling 
your  proud  aspirations  ?  Have  you  never  seen  the  ex- 
tremity in  which  you  felt  the  need  of  a  friend  on  high  ? 


72  SERMON    I. 

Has  no  near  and  endeared  relation,  perhaps  the  partner 
of  your  bosom,  or  the  children  of  your  love,  the  father 
or  mother  who  gave  you  birth,  or  brother  or  sister, 
whom  you  loved  as  yourself — have  none  of  these  been 
torn  from  your  fond  embrace,  and  your  affections  left 
to  linger  around  the  tomb  that  enclosed  their  lifeless 
remains?  My  hearer,  it  was  God  who  did  it;  and 
perhaps  as  to  time  and  circumstances,  more  with  ref- 
erence to  yon  than  to  the  loved  one  whom,  you  may 
be  permitted  to  hope,  he  has  taken  to  himself.  You 
needed  the  reproof;  and  though  severe,  it  was  given 
in  kindness.  God  doth  not  willingly  afflict.  By  these 
things  he  designs  that  men  shall  live,  and  in  all  these 
things,  we  ought  to  be  able  to  say  with  Hezekiah  of 
old,  is  the  life  of  our  spirits. 

2.  I  observe,  again,  that  God  loudly  and  solemnly 
admonishes  us  by  his  Word. 

Here  he  brings  before  us  all  those  truths  which  we 
ought  to  know,  and  in  every  variety  of  form  that  we 
could  desire,  in  order  to  arrest  our  attention  and  secure 
our  salvation.  The  perfections  of  his  holy  character 
and  the  great  principles  of  his  government  are  clearly 
revealed.  Our  own  sinful  natures  and  helpless  condi- 
tion, together  with  the  means  of  recovery,  are  fully 
exhibited.  Duty  is  made  plain,  and  all  the  motives 
are  urgently  pressed  which  ought  to  influence  moral 
and  intelligent  creatures. 

Without  dealing  longer  in  general  statements,  let 
me  ask,  who  is  it  in  this  congregation  that  does  not  or 
may  not  know,  from  the  Sacred  Scriptures,  that  God  is 
a  holy  God ;  that  his  government  is  a  perfect  govern- 


SERMON    I.  73 

ment — administered  upon  the  eternal  principles  of 
justice  and  truth  ;  that  sin  is  abominable  in  his  sight, 
and  can  never  pass  with  impunity,  but  must  meet  its 
desert  in  the  offender  or  a  substitute  ?  Who  is  it  that 
does  not  or  may  not  know,  from  the  Scriptures,  that 
he  is  himself  a  sinner,  by  nature  and  by  practice ;  that 
the  very  thoughts  of  the  imagination  of  his  heart  are 
only  evil  continually ;  and  that  except  a  man  be  born 
again,  by  the  almighty  power  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot 
see  the  kingdom  of  God?  Who  is  it  that  does  not  or 
may  not  know,  from  the  Word  of  God,  that  there  is 
one  only,  hut  he  an  all-syjicient  Saviour;  that  that  Sa- 
viour has  borne  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree, 
so  that  God  can  now  be  just  and  the  justifier  of  him 
that  believeth  in  Jesus ;  that  in  view  of  this  great  sa- 
crifice for  sin,  the  arms  of  mercy  are  wide  extended  to 
receive  every  returning  penitent,  and  that  7ione  who 
come  unto  him  shall  in  anywise  be  cast  out  ?  Who  is 
it  that  does  not  or  may  not  know,  upon  the  authority 
of  God's  unerring  Word,  that  there  is  a  day  appointed, 
in  which  the  divine  Saviour  will  sit  enthroned  in  his 
glory,  and  judge  all  nations  ;  that  the  decisions  of  that 
great  day  are  according  to  his  own  holy  law,  and  with 
special  reference  to  our  acceptance  or  rejection  of  his 
proffered  mercy  ;  and  that  those  decisions  are  final  and 
irreversible  forever — so  that  Heaven  or  Hell  must  be 
the  everlasting  dwelling  place  of  the  soul,  crowned 
with  inconceivable  and  unfading  glory,  or  wrapped  in 
inextinguishable  flames,  and  vexed  with  the  torment  of 
eternal  despair? 

Yes,  my  hearers — we  know  all,  or  may  know,  (and 
10 


74  SERMON    I. 

if  we  do  not,  this  is  our  sin  and  our  folly,)  we  know, 
or  may  know  all  that  we  need  to  know.  The  grounds 
of  difficulty  between  us  and  our  Maker  are  clearly 
stated;  the  means  of  adjusting  it  are  all  provided  and 
accessible ;  the  invitations  to  a  settlement  loud,  and 
affectionate,  and  full.  And  I  would  ask,  What  stronger 
appeals  could  be  presented  than  are  in  the  Word  of 
God,  to  induce  us  to  cease  our  rebellion  and  be  recon- 
ciled to  him  ?  What  more  exceeding  great  and  pre- 
cious promises?  What  more  terrible  threats  and  tre- 
mendous sanctions?  What  more  awfully  solemn  and 
soul  stirring  truths?  Ah,  my  hearers,  if  all  other 
proof  were  wanting,  the  fact  that  we  can  slumber, 
surrounded  by  light  from  Heaven  disclosing  matters 
like  these,  Avith  the  knowledge  too  that  we  must  all 
very  soon  make  the  trial  of  their  truth,  would  furnish 
an  unanswerable  argument  for  our  deadness  in  sin,  and 
consequent  just  exj)osure  to  the  eternal  condemnation 
of  God. 

But  we  pass  on  to  speak  of  other  methods  of  re- 
proof; and 

3.  Observe,  in  the  third  place,  that  God  admonishes 
us  again  and  again  by  his  miiusterivg  servants. 

There  are  regions  of  the  world,  less  favored  than 
this,  where  this  remark  could  not  be  made  with  truth. 
But  let  us  not  forget,  my  hearers,  that  it  is  the  discus- 
sion of  our  own  privileges  and  responsibilities  which 
most  of  all  concerns  us. 

God  has  been  pleased  not  merely  to  devise  and  exe- 
cute a  plan  of  salvation,  and  make  that  plan  known  to 
us  in  his  Word,  but  he  has  appointed  an  order  of  men 


SERMON    I.  75 

in  the  cliurcb,  whose  duty  it  is  to  study  that  Word, 
and  press  its  great  truths  upon  the  attention  and  con- 
sciences of  men.  He  well  knew  the  appalling  and 
death-like  apathy  that  reigns  naturally  in  our  minds 
on  the  most  important  of  all  subjects,  the  salvation  of 
our  souls ;  that  though  our  rebellion  was  against  the 
God  of  Heaven,  it  was  maintained  not  only  with  a 
high  hand,  but  with  a  heart  ruinously  reckless  of  the 
consequences  :  and  therefore,  in  addition  to  his  Word, 
which  would  otherwise  lie  comparatively  unread  and 
unheeded,  he  has  given  us  the  ministry  of  reconcilia- 
tion to  reason  with  us,  from  that  Word,  of  righteous- 
ness and  temperance  and  judgment  to  come  :  to  urge 
upon  us  continually  its  solemn  admonitions  and  re- 
proofs :  to  make  known  the  way  of  life  which  it  re- 
veals ;  and,  in  the  name  of  the  great  Redeemer  him- 
self, to  entreat  men  to  be  reconciled  and  saved :  to 
publish  peace  from  God  to  all  who  submit  to  the  terms 
of  his  mercy,  and  to  point  out  the  terrible  overthrow 
of  those'who  despise  his  Son,  their  Saviour,  and  madly 
and  wickedly  persevere  in  their  rebellion. 

As  the  ambassador  of  God,  I  stand  before  you  this 
day  ;  and,  in  his  name,  I  solemnly  ask,  how  often  have 
you  met  his  accredited  ministers,  and  heard  from  their 
lips  the  message  which  he  sent  you — respectfully  per- 
haps, but  with  no  earnest  heed — or,  it  may  be,  with 
thoughtless  trifling  and  frivolous  behavior  in  the  very 
sanctuary  of  his  holiness  !  Who  that  hears  me  has  not 
often  heard,  from  the  sacred  desk,  the  holy  require- 
ments of  God's  law,  and  the  gracious  invitations  of 
his  Gospel  ?     Who  that  hears  me  has  not  witnessed, 


76  SERMON    I. 

in  the  outward  administration  of  water,  the  significant 
representation  of  that  inward  purification  without 
which  no  man  shall  see  God ;  and  in  the  simple  but 
impressive  ceremonial  of  the  Supper,  the  evident  me- 
morial of  that  awful  decease  which  was  accomplished 
at  Jerusalem,  when  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God  was 
shed  for  the  remission  of  sins?  To  these  repeated 
warnings  I  add  another,  and  I  beg  you  to  remember 
that  mercies  misimproved  cease  to  be  blessings,  and 
turn  into  curses.  You  have,  my  hearers,  like  Caper- 
naum of  old,  been  exalted  to  Heaven  in  point  of  privi- 
lege— may  you  not  receive  her  doom  !  Had  you  never 
heard  a  sermon  before,  and  should  you  never  hear  one 
again,  you  have  heard  enough  this  day  to  render  you 
utterly  without  excuse  when  you  stand  before  the  bar 
of  God !  This  indeed,  the  Scriptures  tell  us,  will  be 
the  case  with  those  who  never  so  much  as  heard  that 
a  Saviour  had  died  for  the  redemption  of  sinners ;  how 
much  more  with  those  upon  whose  ears  these  glad 
tidings  fall  like  the  words  of  a  tale  a  thousand  times 
told,  and  to  whose  heart  Heaven  and  Hell  make  almost 
no  appeal,  from  very  familiarity  to  the  thought ! 

4.  But  these  are  all  monitors  without.  God  has 
given  us  two  faithful  ones  within.  The  first  which  I 
mention,  is  natural  conscience. 

There  is  in  every  man  a  moral  sense  or  conscience, 
which  sits  supreme  amongst  the  fiiculties  of  his  soul, 
and  approves  as  right  or  condemns  as  wrong  his  feel- 
ings and  thoughts  and  words  and  actions.  It  is  not 
indeed  always  right  nor  equally  acute  in  its  decisions  ; 
nor  docs  it  always  give  the  same  verdict  in  different 


SERMON    I.  77 

or  even  in  the  same  individuals ;  but  to  deny  its  ex- 
istence for  this  reason,  as  some  do,  is  to  go  contrary  to 
the  plainest  dictates  of  every  man's  consciousness. 
We  all  have  this  witness  for  God  within  us ;  and 
whether  well  or  ill  informed,  whether  right  or  wrong 
in  its  decisions,  those  decisions  are  according  to  what 
it  believes  to  be  the  will  of  God,  for  whose  rights  it 
always  pleads.  As  well  may  we  deny  the  existence 
of  reason,  or  any  other  faculty  or  operation  of  the  soul, 
as  to  call  in  question  this  most  deeply  seated  and 
commanding  amongst  them  all.  It  may  be  stifled,  or 
stupified,  or  seared  as  with  a  hot  iron  ;  but  we  believe 
that  the  man  is  yet  to  be  found  who  is  of  sane  mind, 
and  yet  wholly  destitute  of  a  conscience.  It  may 
even  approve  where  it  ought  to  condemn,  or  condemn 
where  it  ought  to  approve ;  but  it  is  not  therefore  the 
less  really  a  judge  of  all  that  we  feel  and  think  and 
say  and  do  :  nor  will  it  either  approve  what  it  believes 
to  be  wrong,  or  condemn  what  it  believes  to  be  right: 
nor  will  it  ever  be  satisfied  while  we  do  not  respect  its 
decisions. 

Of  the  existence  of  such  a  faculty  or  operation 
of  the  soul  as  I  have  described,  we  all  have  the 
highest  evidence  of  which  our  nature  admits — I  mean 
our  own  consciousness.  So  true  is  this,  that  we  as- 
sume it  to  be  in  every  man  around  us ;  and  we  respect 
or  despise  others  according  as  they  appear  to  respect 
or  despise  the  authority  of  this  internal  monitor  and 
judge. 

To  bring  this  matter  home,  my  hearers,  let  me  ask. 
Who  in  this  audience  will  admit  that  he  has  no  con- 


78  SERMON    I. 

science?  That  there  is  notliing  within  which  distin- 
guishes between  good  and  evil,  liowever  outwardly  he 
may  confound  them  ?  That  there  is  no  principle  in 
his  nature  which  pleads  the  cause  of  God  and  right, 
and  creates  a  clamor  in  the  soul  when  these  are 
wronsred  and  outraned"?  You  cannot  do  it.  Con- 
science  itself  will  not  allow  it.  Well  do  you  know 
its  terrible  upbraidings  for  wickedness  which,  perhaps, 
the  world  knows  nothing  of,  but  which,  conscience 
tells,  is  known  to  God,  whose  righteous  judgment  you 
cannot  escape.  Well  do  you  know  its  daily  remon- 
strances for  secret,  it  ma}^  not  be  heinous,  and  yet  it 
may  be  heinous  sins.  Well  do  you  know  the  dis- 
quietude which  you  often  feel  under  its  convictions  of 
guilt,  when,  at  the  same  time,  you  remember  that  you 
must  soon  die,  and  that  you  have  neither  found  nor 
sousrht  an  interest  in  the  Saviour's  blood.  Well  do  I 
know  that  your  consciences  occupy  the  ground  that  I 
assert  this  day  and  at  this  moment,  when  I  tell  you  that 
it  is  not  one  of  your  least  enormous  sins  that  you  have 
so  often  and  so  long  withstood  every  call  of  God's 
grace  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,  and,  despite  all 
the  convictions  of  your  better  judgment,  have  gone 
on  in  thoughtlessness,  and  worldliness,  and  sin,  at  the 
risk  every  hour  of  your  soul's  eternal  undoing.  In 
vain  do  you  say,  peace !  There  can  be  none  that  is 
worth  the  name,  till  you  find  it  in  the  settled  contro- 
versy that  is  between  you  and  God.  To  that  settle- 
ment conscience  urges  whenever  you  give  it  the  op- 
portunity to  speak,  and  often  when  you  would  be  glad 
to  hush  its  voice  :    and  if  at  last  you  appear  before  the 


SERMON    I.  79 

bar  of  God  an  enemy  unreconciled  and  peace  not  made, 
conscience,  you  well  know,  will  be  your  most  bitter 
accuser,  pleading  guilty  to  all  the  charges  that  shall 
then  be  read  from  God's  book  of  remembrance,  and  to 
none  more  loudly  than  this,  that  you  knew  your  duty 
but  did  it  not. 

5.  But  there  is  a  higher  and  holier  monitor  still 
who  condescends  to  dwell  with  men,  and  call  them  to 
repentance  of  their  sins  and  peace  with  God,  This 
monitor  is  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  proceeding  from 
the  Father  and  the  Son. 

"  It  is  expedient  for  you,  (said  our  Saviour  to  his 
disciples  in  his  last  address,  just  before  his  crucifixion,) 
it  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away :  for  if  I  go  not 
away,  the  Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you  ;  but  if  I 
depart,  I  will  send  him  unto  you.  And  when  he  is 
come,  he  will  reprove  the  w^orld  of  sin,  and  of  righte- 
ousness, and  of  judgment." 

This,  my  hearers,  if  I  may  so  speak,  next  to  his  Son, 
is  God's  best  gift  to  men.  The  Spirit  comes  to  finish 
what  the  Son  began  ;  or  rather  to  apply  and  seal  the 
benefits  which  he,  by  his  obedience  and  death,  had 
purchased  for  his  people. 

How  he  operates  we  pretend  not  to  know ;  but  this 
w^e  do  know  from  the  Word  of  God,  that  it  is  the 
Spirit  who  alone  works  efficaciously  and  always  power- 
fully in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  presents  his  other  and 
oft  repeated  calls  in  such  a  way  as  partially,  or  wholly 
and  savingly,  to  awaken  them  to  duty.  It  is  an  opi- 
nion of  the  older  writers,  not  easily  controverted,  that 


80  SERMON    I. 

all  the  virtue  that  is  in  the  world  is  to  be  ascribed  to 
the  Spirit  of  God  ;  that  but  for  the  restraining  and  im- 
pelling power  of  his  grace,  we  should  all  be  outright 
and  at  once  devils  incarnate,  devouring  and  devoured 
of  one  another,  and  doomed  of  course  to  eternal  death! 

Abstract  from  the  heart  of  man  the  grace  of  God — 
which  in  this  case  can  only  be  the  work  and  influence 
of  the  Holy  Spirit — and  may  be  called  common  grace, 
because,  under  the  present  peculiar  dispensation  of 
suspended  justice,  that  mercy  may  have  its  course,  all 
men  share  it  in  greater  or  less  degree — abstract,  I  say, 
this  grace  from  the  heart  of  man,  and  what  have  we 
left  but  the  original  curse  of  unmitigated  spiritual 
death,  fitting  us  for  all  the  deeds  of  darkness  to  which 
we  shall  be  freely  competent  whenever  God  shall,  as 
at  any  time  he  justly  may,  remove  us  from  our  present 
favored  state  to  that  world  of  woe  where  grace  no 
longer  restrains  and  moves,  and  death  triumphantly 
reigns  ? 

These  views  show  how  little  credit  we  may  take  to 
ourselves  for  any  virtue  that  pertains  to  our  character, 
since  in  this  respect  we  are  what  we  are  by  the  grace 
of  God,  and  can  credit  to  ourselves  only  our  sins. 
And  yet  some  men  are  relying  here  alone  for  justifica- 
tion before  God  !  Not  upon  free  grace  in  Christ,  but 
upon  their  own  works ;  though  these,  as  far  as  there 
is  in  them  "  any  virtue  and  any  praise,"  are  themselves 
the  product  of  God's  gracious  Spirit ! 

To  these  common  operations  of  the  Spirit  then, 
acting  through  the  medium  of  our  understandings  and 


SERMON    I.  81 

consciences,  are  we  to  ascribe  all  those  movements 
within  us  which  we  all  sometimes  feel  towards  a  refor- 
mation of  our  lives,  and  addressing  ourselves  in  good 
earnest  to  the  work  of  our  salvation.  They  cannot 
come  from  Satan,  who  never  aims  to  j)i'oduce  a  salu- 
tary impression  upon  the  heart.  They  cannot  come 
from  ourselves,  since  but  for  the  grace  of  God  we 
should,  like  devils,  be  utterly  destitute  of  every  sem- 
blance of  a  principle  of  spiritual  life,  utterly  bereft  of 
the  faintest  feature  of  the  image  of  God  which  we 
originally  wore.  They  proceed  from  the  Spirit  of 
God,  which  ever  strives  with  man,  more  or  less  pow- 
erfully, until  he  is  either  savingly  converted,  or  in  just 
retribution  for  his  waywardness  and  folly,  he  is  aban- 
doned to  hardness  and  blindness,  and,  as  we  may  sup- 
pose, to  speedy  death.  It  is  this  Spirit  of  the  living 
God,  that  impresses  upon  our  minds  and  hearts  the 
appeals  of  his  providence  and  word  and  ministers,  and 
gives  life  and  energy  to  the  remonstrances  of  con- 
science. He  is  not  restricted  in  his  operations  to 
times,  nor  places,  nor  persons.  Sometimes  he  moves  the 
assembled  multitude  to  enquire  what  they  must  do  to 
be  saved — sometimes  he  arouses  the  solitary  slumberer 
to  cr)^  out  at  midnight  for  mercy.  At  one  time  it  is 
the  preaching,  at  another  the  reading  of  the  Word 
which  he  causes  to  arrest  attention  and  awaken  feel- 
ing. At  others,  it  may  be,  in  deep  retirement  and 
without  any  outward  exciting  cause,  the  sinner  is 
made  to  take  alarm  at  his  very  thoughtlessness  in  the 
midst  of  so  much  guilt  and  danger.  A  general  awaken- 
ing is  often  spread  through  a  whole  communiy ;  while 

11 


82  SERMON    I. 

at  other  times,  two  may  be  grinding  at  the  same  mill, 
and  one  be  taken,  but  the  other  left. 

Have  you,  my  hearer,  never  witnessed  such  things 
as  these  ?  Are  you  yourself  an  utter  stranger  to  these 
strivings  of  the  Spirit — it  may  be,  by  other  methods 
and  in  other  circumstances?  Has  he  never  followed 
you,  as  if  loath  to  give  you  up,  into  the  very  haunts 
of  vice,  and  inscribed  upon  the  door  posts,  "  This  is 
the  way  to  Hell,  going  down  to  the  chambers  of 
death !"  Has  he  never  checked  the  giddy  thought  by 
the  recollection  that  God  was  present  and  you  immor- 
tal? Has  he.never  disturbed  your  peaceful  pursuit  of 
the  world,  by  raising  the  question,  "  What  shall  it 
profit,  if  you  gain  it  all  and  lose  your  soul?"  Have 
you  never  been  almost  persuaded  to  be  a  Christian  ? 
Have  you  never  found  it  hard  to  get  your  full  consent 
to  let  some  favored  season  pass,  and  you  remain  un- 
saved ?  Have  you  never  feared  that  the  Spirit  grieved 
and  once  departed,  would  never  more  return  and  leave 
you  forever  undone?  Oh  have  you  never  dreaded  the 
bitter  lamentation,  "  The  harvest  is  past,  the  summer 
is  ended,  and  I  am  not  saved!"  Have  you  never  se- 
cretly prayed,  "Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous, 
and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his  !"     Say,  fellow  sinner, 

"  Hath  something  met  thee  in  thy  path 
Of  worlcUincss  and  vanitj', 
And  pointed  to  tlie  coming  wrath, 

And  warned  thee  from  that  wrath  to  flee? 

Sinner,  it  was  a  heavenly  voice, 

It  was  the  Spirit's  gracious  call ; 
It  bade  thee  make  the  better  choice, 

And  haste  to  seek  in  Christ  thine  all. 


SERMON    I.  83 

Spurn  not  the  call  to  life  and  light ; 

Regard  in  time  the  warning  kind : 
That  call  thou  may  'st  not  always  slight, 

And  yet  the  gate  of  mercy  find. 

God's  Spirit  will  not  always  strive 

With  hardened,  self-destroying  man. 
Ye  who  persist  his  love  to  grieve, 

May  never  hear  his  voice  again." 

II.  This  leads  me  (in  the  second  place)  to  consider 
briefly  the  awful  result  of  "  hardening  the  neck" 
against  all  the  reproofs  and  calls  of  God's  grace. 

I  need  not  stop  to  tell  what  is  meant  by  "  harden- 
ing the  neck  against  God."  Have  you  thus  far  re- 
sisted every  admonition,  and  are  you  this  day  refusing 
the  invitations  of  his  mercy  ?  Then  have  you  up  to 
this  very  hour  been  doing  the  very  thing.  God  only 
knows  how  much  longer  you  may  persevere ;  how 
much  oftener  you  may  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  his  remon- 
strances, before  that  overtakes  you  which  is  threatened 
in  the  text.  "  He  that  being  often  reproved,  har- 
deneth  his  neck,  shall  suddenly  be  destroyed,  and  that 
without  remedy." 

1.  He  shall  he  destroyed.  God  hath  said  it,  and  who 
shall  reverse  it  ?  I  know,  my  hearers,  that  we  like  to 
lay  the  flattering  unction  to  ourselves,  that  all  will  be 
well ;  at  least,  better  than  we  had  feared  :  that  we  are 
pleased  to  hear  soft  and  smooth  things  from  the  sacred 
desk.  But  God  forbid  that  I  should  pervert  his  mes- 
sage, or  lighten  the  burden  of  his  word !  "I  am 
against  the  prophets,  saith  the  Lord,  that  steal  my 
Word,  every  one  from  his  neighbor.  Behold,  I  am 
against  the  prophets,  saith  the  Lord,  that  smooth  their 


84  SERMON    I. 

tongues  and  say,  He  saith,  Behold  I  am  against  them 
that  prophesy  false  dreams,  saith  the  Lord,  and  do  tell 
them,  and  cause  my  people  to  err  by  their  lies  and  by 
their  lightness :  yet  I  sent  them  not,  nor  rommanded 
them."  I  solemnly  admonish  you,  then,  my  hearer, 
whoever  you  be  that  art  making  light  of  the  reproofs 
of  the  Lord,  that  destruction  from  God  is  in  the  way 
before  you.  Go  on,  and  you  will  overtake  it.  "  God 
is  not  man,  that  he  should  lie  ;  nor  the  son  of  man, 
that  he  should  repent :  hath  he  said,  and  shall  he  not 
do  it ;  or,  hath  he  spoken,  and  shall  he  not  make  it 
good  ?" 

2.  But  "  he  that  hardeneth  his  neck  "  shall  not  only 
certainly,  but    "  suddenly  he  deslroyedy 

God  is  merciful,  but  he  is  also  just:  he  is  long  suf- 
fering, but  his  anger,  when  it  does  kindle,  is  kindled 
quickly.  He  does  not  threaten  speedy  (mark  the  dis- 
tinction,) but  sudden  destruction  :  it  may  be  long  de- 
ferred, but  when  it  does  come,  it  "  cometh  like  the 
whirlwind."  Under  the  dispensation  of  his  grace, 
sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not  often  speedily 
executed ;  and  therefore  the  hearts  of  men  may  be 
fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil.  But,  my  hearers,  though 
delayed  in  mercy  to  you,  the  execution  is  none  the  less 
sure  ;  and  though  judgment  may  slumber  for  a  season, 
it  will  one  day  break  forth  and  fall  upon  the  sinner 
with  terrific  haste  !  Though  a  sinner  do  evil  an  hun- 
dred times,  and  his  days  be  prolonged,  yet  surely  I 
know  that  it  sliall  be  well  with  them  that  fear  God, 
but  it  shall  not  be  well  with  the  wicked.  Tiie  Lord 
is  a  jealous  God,  and  a  revenger.     He  will  take  ven- 


SERMON    I.  85 

geance  on  his  adversaries,  and  he  reserveth  wrath  for 
his  enemies.  The  Lord  is  slow  to  anger,  and  great  in 
power,  but  will  not  at  all  acquit  the  wicked.  He  hath 
his  way  in  the  whirlwind  and  in  the  storm,  and  the 
clouds  are  the  dust  of  liis  feet.  The  mountains  quake, 
the  hills  melt,  and  the  earth  is  burnt  at  his  presence. 
Who  can  stand  before  his  indignation  ?  Who  can  abide 
in  the  fierceness  of  his  anger?  His  fury  is  poured  out 
like  fire,  and  the  rocks  are  thrown  down  by  him ! 

Such,  my  hearers,  is  the  prophet's  description  of  his 
coming.  Can  you  venture  to  meet  him  as  you  are? 
Will  you  close  your  eyes  against  the  signs,  and  your 
ears  against  the  warnings  that  he  gives  you,  and  go 
recklessly  forward  till  his  judgment  shall  surprise  you 
like  a  thief  in  the  night,  and  there  shall  be  none  to 
deliver  ?     For, 

3.  Observe,  in  conclusion,  that  he  that  hardeneth 
his  neck  shall  be  destroyed,  not  only  suddenly,  but 
without  remedy. 

There  is  a  period  in  our  progress  in  sin,  my  hearer, 
it  is  a  most  solemn  truth  !  beyond  which  the  mercy  of 
God  goes  no  longer  with  us.  Then  our  ruin  becomes 
remediless.  Not  tliat  the  mercy  of  God  is  so  limited 
that, it  cannot,  in  view  of  the  atonement  of  Christ, 
cover  sins  of  any  magnitude  and  in  any  multitude — 
but  that  God  has,  in  his  infinite  wisdom  and  justice, 
himself  fixed  the  limit  to  which  the  sinner  may  go  in 
the  violation  of  his  law  and  abuse  of  his  mercies — but 
not  beyond,  without  sealing  his  eternal  doom !  At 
that  point  the  Lord  says,  My  Spirit  shall  not  always 
strive !    And  then  there  is  no  more  hope  !    Where  this 


86  SERMON    I. 

limit  is  in  any  man's  life  we  pretend  not  to  say  :  God 
only  knoweth,  as  it  belongs  to  him  alone  to  say  where 
mercy  shall  end  and  justice  begin.  Perhaps  few  reach 
it  before  death,  but  for  aught  we  know,  many  pass  it 
long  before. 

In  this  view  of  the  subject,  my  hearers,  destruction 
conies  literally  in  a  moment,  and  is  irreversible  for- 
ever. One  last  neglected  opportunity  or  call  fills  up 
the  measure,  and  God  says,  Let  him  alone!  Tlie  heart 
is  henceforward  steeled  against  every  persuasion,  and 
the  Spirit  of  God,  aggrieved,  takes  its  everlasting 
flight.  The  man  may  have  no  very  awful  forebod- 
ings; but  his  end  draweth  nigh,  and  he  cannot  escape. 
Often  did  wisdom  cry  without,  and  utter  her  voice  in 
the  street  in  the  chief  places  of  concourse — saying, 
"  How  long,  ye  simple  ones,  will  ye  love  simplicity, 
and  the  scorners  delight  in  their  scorning,  and  fools 
hate  knowledge?  Turn  you  at  my  reproof."  But 
every  invitation  has  been  spurned,  every  warning  un- 
heeded, every  privilege  abused:  and  now  justice  as- 
cends the  throne.  "  Because  I  have  called,  and  ye  re- 
fused ;  I  have  stretched  out  my  hand,  and  no  man  re- 
garded: but  ye  have  set  at  naught  all  my  counsel  and 
despised  all  my  reproof.  I  also  will  laugh  at  your  ca- 
lamity, I  will  mock  when  your  fear  cometh.  When 
your  fear  cometh  as  desolation  and  your  destruction 
cometh  as  a  whirlwind;  when  distress  and  anguish 
come  upon  you,  then  shall  ye  call  upon  me,  but  I  will 
not  answer.  Ye  shall  seek  me  early,  but  ye  shall  not 
find  me :  for  that  ye  hated  knowledge,  and  did  not 
choose  the  fear  of  the  Lord ;  ye  would  hear  none  of 


SERMON    I.  87 

my  counsel ;  ye  despised  all  my  reproof;  therefore 
shall  ye  eat  of  the  fruit  of  your  own  way,  and  be 
filled  with  your  own  devices."  The  ruin  now  is  final 
and  complete.  There  is  no  means  of  removing  or 
miti2:atins:  the  sufferino;s  of  the  soul.  There  is  no 
Saviour  to  heave  oft"  the  dreadful  weight  of  divine 
wrath —  no  Lazarus  to  dip  his  finger  in  water  and  cool 
the  parched  tongue ! 

My  hearer,  have  you  made  your  peace  with  God  ? 
Or,  having  neglected  it,  will  you  do  it?  As  his  am- 
bassador, I  make  the  proclamation  of  peace.  What 
message  shall  the  waiting  angels,  the  ministers  of  the 
Great  King,  bear  back  to  the  Court  of  Heaven  ?  Ye 
messengers  of  the  living  God,  report  it  not  to  the 
King  of  Heaven,  that  this  is  a  stiff"  necked  people, 
who  harden  their  hearts  against  him ! 

Let  us  look  to  the  God  of  mercy,  that  his  anger 
kindle  not  against  us,  and  we  be  consumed  in  his 
wrath  ! 


SERMON    II. 

Psalm  lxxxv,  6.— "Wilt  thou  uot  revive  us  again,  that  thy  people 
may  rejoice  in  thee." 

That  the  present  is  a  season  of  great  spiritual  declen- 
sion, I  presume  no  one  will  deny.  The  absence  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  from  the  great  majority  of  the  churches, 
unprofitable  preaching  and  barren  ordinances,  the  con- 
formity of  christian  professors  to  the  world,  their  want 
of  religious  life  and  comfort  and  joy,  the  prevalent  in- 
difference of  sinners,  their  hardness  and  even  daring 
resistance  of  the  truth,  and  their  warm  pursuit  of  the 
world  in  all  its  forms,  impress  our  minds,  and  forbid 
us  to  close  our  eyes  upon  the  mournful  fact.  We  may 
take  up  the  lamentation  of  the  psalmist,  "  AVill  the 
Lord  cast  off  forever,  and  will  he  be  favorable  no 
more?  Is  his  mercy  clear  gone  forever?  Doth  his 
promise  fail  forever  more?  Hath  God  forgotten  to 
be  gracious?  Hath  he  in  anger  shut  up  liis  tender 
mercies  ?" 

Such  a  state  ought  to  be  distressing  in  the  extreme 
to  the  christian  and  the  philanthropist :  and  a  revival 
is  most  desirable  and  needful.  That  we  may  feel  it  to 
be  so,  let  us 

I.  Consider  the  subject  in  its  relation  to  ovr  country. 
And  here  observe, 


SERMON    II.  89 

1.  First  the  iwUtical  e7igrossment  of  our  people. 
National  and  state  affairs   largely  affect  individual 

interests,  and  every  man  in  our  republican  country 
is  a  politician.  The  most  momentous  and  intricate 
questions  of  peace  and  war  find  their  way  to  every 
fireside,  excite  feelings  in  every  breast,  and  elicit  dis- 
course from  every  tongue.  The  prolific  press  keeps 
political  topics  in  perpetual  contact  with  the  public 
mind.  The  politics  of  the  nation,  and  I  may  say  of 
the  vt'orld,  form  one  great  absorbing  theme  with  all 
the  people,  and  often  exclude  feeling  and  thought  and 
action  in  what  vasthj  more,  and  more  directly,  concerns 
their  individual  welfare. 

It  must  be  so.  We  cannot  change  it.  But  we  want 
something  to  go  with  it,  side  by  side,  into  every  com- 
munity, into  every  family,  and  into  every  heart.  Yea, 
we  want  some  powerful  principle  to  preoccupy  and 
permanently  engross  the  mind,  and  give  healthful  di- 
rection to  feeling  and  passion,  the  basis  of  all  action. 
We  want  something  to  restrain  ambition  and  covetous- 
ness,  intrigue  and  fraud  and  corruption,  in  the  govern- 
ment and  in  the  people,  and  to  diffuse,  through  all  ranks 
and  departments  of  the  nation,  industry  and  integrity, 
order  and  peace,  the  fear  of  God  and  the  love  of  man. 

Religion  only  can  do  it — the  holy  religion  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Our  help,  my  hearers,  is  in  God 
only,  and  to  him  we  should  direct  our  prayer,  "  Wilt 
thou  not  revive  us  again,  that  thy  people  may  rejoice 
in  thee?" 

2.  Consider,  secondly,  the  rapid  increase  of  our  'popu- 
lation, unparalleled  in  the  history  of  any  people.     Al- 

12 


90  SERMON    II. 

ready  we  number  about  twenty-five  millions  of  inha- 
bitants, and  doubling  as  we  do,  in  little  more  than 
twenty  years,  before  the  present  century  has  closed, 
we  shall  have  one  hundred  millions  spread  over  our 
soil.  These  all  have  souls — souls  by  nature  estranged 
from  God,  and  dead  in  sin.  Long  ere  this  the  faith- 
ful, who  are  now  in  the  earth,  will  have  failed  from 
amongst  us ;  and  without  the  life-giving  power  of  the 
Spirit,  we  shall  be  left  a  nation  without  God,  ready 
for  destruction ! 

Religion,  my  hearers — true  religion  before  God — is 
our  great  bulwark  of  defense.  If  Christ  shall  make 
us  free,  we  shall  be  free  indeed.  Where  his  Spirit  is, 
there  is  liberty,  and  there  is  life.  But  where  this  in- 
ward, spiritual  liberty  is  wanting,  the  outward  form 
cannot  long  subsist.  A  nation  of  slaves  to  lust  has 
already  lost  its  highest  and  truest  freedom,  and  hastens 
to  its  doom.  The  fear  of  God  is  the  beginning  and 
the  perfection  of  wisdom.  This  is  true  of  nations  as 
well  as  individuals.  It  is  righteousness  which  exalt- 
eth  a  nation,  while  sin  is  a  reproach  to  any  people ; 
and  if  in  any  case,  in  tiie  strong  language  of  Scrip- 
ture, a  land  "  vomitith  out  her  inhabitants,"  it  is  be- 
cause the  land  is  defiled  by  their  iniquities  and  their 
abominations. 

Let,  then,  the  influences  of  the  Spirit  of  God  upon 
our  people  cease ;  let  our  borders  enlarge,  and  our 
people  multiply,  and  iniquity  prevail :  and  where  shall 
the  next  generation  be  found  ?  If  we  would  produce 
the  leaven  of  religion  amongst  us,  the  spirit  of  life 
must  dwell  in  the  churches.     If  we  would  keep  up 


SERMON    II.  91 

the  present  proportion  of  religious  influence  to  our 
growing  population — and  who  will  say  that  we  can  do 
with  less — we  must  have  the  reviving  influences  of  the 
Spirit  amongst  us.  We  cannot  with  any  safety  re- 
main still.  Our  population  is  striding  rapidly  onward. 
We  want  something  to  go  with  it.  We  want  in  the 
people  the  wisdom  of  God  and  the  power  of  God. 
This  is  the  Gospel ;  and  we  want  this  in  every  heart. 
Now,  my  hearers,  God's  Spirit  alone  can  put  it  there. 
Let  us,  therefore,  direct  our  prayer  unto  him,  "  Wilt 
thou  not  revive  us  again,  that  thy  people  may  rejoice 
in  thee  ?" 

3.  Consider,  thirdly,  the  extensive  spread  of  popery 
and  other  errors  over  our  land. 

The  Roman  Catholics  report  about  two  millions  of 
our  people  as  regular  communicants  in  their  church ; 
and  claim  at  least  an  equal  number  as  more  or  less 
under  their  influence.  The  principal  source  of  their 
rapid  increase  is  the  constant  heavy  importation  from 
Europe  of  a  population  wholly  unacquainted  with  our 
institutions,  accustomed  at  home  to  strong  restraint, 
and  ignorant  of  the  right  use  and  enjoyment  of  free- 
dom. To  these  the  Bible,  which  is  at  once  the  foun- 
dation and  the  bulwark  of  our  liberties,  is  a  book  pro- 
hibited as  dangerous  to  be  read  in  the  vulgar  tongue. 
And  look  where  we  may,  we  find  errors  springing  up, 
and  prevailing  more  or  less  extensively  all  over  our 
land.  These  all  proceed  from  darkness  and  corrup- 
tion, and  are  more  or  less  mischievous  in  their  opera- 
tion. Some  of  them  reach  down  to  the  very  founda- 
tions of  social  existence,  disturbing  long  established 


92  SERMON    II. 

and  well  tried  maxims  of  wisdom  and  religion,  and 
substituting  in  their  stead  the  ruinous  dogmas  of  a 
carnal  philosophy  or  the  intolerant  fury  of  fanatic  phi- 
lanthropy. Of  many  the  whole  and  legitimate  work 
is  to  disorganize,  and  to  pull  down  and  to  destroy 
whatever  is  fair  and  good,  and  ought  to  be  firm  and 
fixed  in  politics  and  religion. 

What  power,  my  hearers,  can  stay  the  progress  and 
restrain  the  wicked  working  of  all  these,  but  the 
power  of  God  ?  And  what  agency  does  he  employ  to 
set  riifht  what  is  wronsr  in  man,  and  to  set  bounds  to 
his  folly  and  wickedness,  so  all  pervasive  and  effective 
as  that  of  religion  ?  It  is  this  that  we  want — a  power- 
ful and  universal  revival  of  pure  and  undefiled  reli- 
gion. And  when  our  hearts  are  saddened  at  the  pros- 
pect of  the  desolations  of  ignorance  and  error,  and  sin 
of  every  form  and  degree,  let  us  remember  that  in 
God  is  our  help,  and  to  Him  let  us  direct  our  prayer, 
"Wilt  thou  not  revive  us  again,  that  thy  people  may 
rejoice  in  thee  ?" 

4.  Consider  this  subject,  fourtWy,  in  connection  icith 
the  destitution  of  ministers. 

In  West  Hanover  Presbytery,  consisting  of  some 
thirty-five  or  forty  ministers,  after  allowing  a  fair  pro- 
portion of  the  population  to  other  evangelical  denomi- 
nations, we  have  seventy-five  thousand  souls  depen- 
dent upon  us  (Presbyterians)  for  the  ministrations 
of  the  Word  of  Life.  Of  these,  allowing  (what  is 
largely  above  the  fact)  that  fifteen  thousand  attend 
regularly  in  our  churches,  we  have  remaining  sixty 
thousand  souls,  wiio  are  without  the  Word,  and  to  a 


SERMON    II.  93 

large  extent  desecrators  of  the  Sabbath.  The  city  of 
Philadelphia  has  long  been  regarded  as  a  sort  of  head 
quarters  to  Presbyterianism ;  and  yet  a  few  years  ago 
the  corresponding  secretary  of  our  board  of  education 
reported,  that  if  we  allowed  eight  hundred  hearers 
over  ten  years  of  age  in  every  church  of  all  denomi- 
nations, orthodox  or  heterodox,  there  would  yet  be 
one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  souls  above  ten 
years  of  age,  left  out,  without  even  a  place  of  wor- 
ship. If  such  be  the  statistics  furnished  by  the  most 
favored  spots  and  portions  of  our  country,  what  should 
we  hear  from  our  most  distant  frontier,  where  states 
and  territories  are  almost  yearly  added?  The  deep 
and  heavy  tide,  too,  of  our  population,  is,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  rapidly  rolling  onward,  and  has  already 
bounded  over  to  the  Pacific  coast.  And  yet  the  alarm- 
ing cry  of  a  decrease,  or  the  scarcely  more  encourag- 
ing announcement  of  "  a  small  increase''''  in  the  num- 
ber of  our  candidates  for  the  ministry,  is  from  year  to 
year,  resounded  in  our  ears.  Our  own  Synod  reported 
in  1842  to  the  General  Assembly,  nineteen  candidates; 
in  1S43,  twenty ;  in  1844,  twenty ;  in  1845,  sixteen ; 
in  1846,  ten;  in  1847,  the  same;  in  1848,  twelve;  in 
1849,  sixteen  ;  in  1850,  ten;  1852,  ten.  Average  from 
1842  to  1845,  eighteen  and  three-quarters.  Average 
from  1846  to  1850,  eleven  and  three-fifths. 

We  say  nothing,  then,  of  the  millions  of  destitute 
souls  in  foreign  lands.  We  point  to  the  wide  spread 
and  still  spreading  population  of  our  own  country — to 
the  thousands  of  our  own  land,  who  are  as  sheep  with- 
out shepherds:    and  then,  saying  nothing  yet  of  the 


M  SERMON    II. 

soul  in  the  world  to  come,  but  limiting  our  views  to 
the  operation  of  such  a  state  of  things  upon  the  pre- 
sent and  future  interests  of  our  country,  we  solemnly 
and  earnestly  ask,  What  shall  we  do  without  revivals 
of  religion  ?  Let  the  still  small  but  authoritative 
voice  of  the  Spirit  be  heard  no  more  in  our  schools, 
and  academies,  and  colleges ;  let  his  life  giving  and 
sanctifying  influences  be  withheld  from  the  community 
and  from  the  churches ;  let,  as  a  necessary  and  speedy 
consequence,  the  pulpit  become  vacant  and  the  voice 
of  the  ambassador  of  God  be  no  more  lifted  to  warn 
and  invite  the  ungodly,  and  to  comfort  and  encourage 
and  establish  the  faithful :  then  tell  me,  how  long  our 
fair  republic  and  boasted  liberties  shall  stand,  and  we 
continue  an  orderly  and  prosperous  and  happy  people, 
as  we  are,  above  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  ?  Truly, 
my  hearers,  we  have  a  goodly  heritage ;  but  as  its 
foundations  were  deeply  laid  in  principles  taught  in 
the  Word  of  God,  so  must  the  superstructure  be  firmly 
united  in  all  its  parts  by  the  same  divine  and  imperish- 
able truths,  or  the  whole  must  ultimately  fall  into 
ruins.  How,  then,  ought  our  whole  nation,  as  with 
one  heart  and  one  voice,  to  cry  out  unto  God — the 
God  of  liberty  and  the  God  of  nations — "  wilt  thou 
not  revive  us  again,  that  thy  people  may  rejoice  in 
thee?" 

II.  The  view  of  this  subject,  Avhich  we  have  thus 
far  taken,  makes  its  appeal  alike  to  the  patriot  and  to 
the  christian.  But  it  has  its  sjiccial  bcarivgs  upon  the 
latter,  which  we  jn'opose,  in  the  second  place.,  to  covsider, 

1.    And  first,  its  bearing  vpon  the  walk  of  christians. 


SERMON    II.  y& 

It  is  the  will  of  our  Saviour  that  christians  be  the 
salt  of  the  earth  and  the  light  of  the  world.  Why- 
else  does  he  leave  them  in  the  world,  and  not  take 
them  at  once  home  to  himself?  It  is  by  these  meta- 
phors that  he  himself  designates  them,  and  indicates 
the  hallowed  savor  and  redeeming  influence  that  they 
should  diffuse  over  all  around  them.  They  are  else- 
where compared  to  leaven,  which  continues  to  spread 
till  the  whole  lump  is  leavened  :  and  they  are  declared 
to  be  "  the  epistles  of  Christ,  written  not  with  ink, 
but  with  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God."  They  are 
represented  as  "  a  chosen  generation,  a  royal  priest- 
hood, an  holy  nation,  a  peculiar  people,  that  they 
should  show"  forth  the  praises  (or,  in  the  margin,  the 
virtues)  of  him  who  hath  called  them  out  of  darkness 
into  his  marvelous  light."  They  are  called  the  people 
of  God,  bought  by  the  precious  price  of  the  blood  of 
his  Son,  "  who  gave  himself  for  them,  that  he  might 
redeem  them  from  all  iniquity,  and  purify  unto  himself 
a  peculiar  people,  zealous  of  good  works." 

Surely,  my  hearers,  if  we  be  the  people  of  God,  we 
ought  to  show  ourselves  to  be  such.  The  Saviour  de- 
mands it.  We  have  covenanted  with  God,  in  the  pre- 
sence of  men  and  of  angels,  to  do  it ;  and  the  world 
expects  it  of  us,  and  have  the  right  to  expect  it.  We 
make  high  professions.  God  is  our  father  by  adoption 
into  his  family.  Jesus  Christ  is  our  King  and  our  Sa- 
viour, and  our  all  sufficient  help.  The  Holy  Ghost 
dwells  in  us  as  in  his  own  temple,  to  purge  out  all  in- 
iquity, and,  by  his  mighty  power,  subdue  us  wholly 
unto  God.     We  profess  to  have  renounced  the  w^orld, 


96  SERMON    II. 

to  have  chosen  the  service  of  God,  and  to  live  for  eter- 
nity and  for  Heaven.  Surely  there  ought  to  be  a  dif- 
ference between  the  children  of  light  and  the  children 
of  darkness  ;  between  those  who  are  alive  unto  righte- 
ousness and  those  who  are  dead  in  sin ;  between  those 
who  renounce  tiie  world  and  live  for  Heaven,  and 
those  who  love  the  world  and  pursue  its  shadows ; 
between  those  who  have  the  mighty  power  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  within  them,  and  those  in  whom,  as  the 
children  of  disobedience,  the  prince  of  darkness  works 
and  reigns. 

How  sad  is  the  time  when  these  high  professions  are 
disregarded  as  empty  and  vain :  when  these  solemn 
vows,  which  bind  us  to  God,  are  forgotten  and  broken : 
when  these  holy  and  distinguishing  privileges  are  neg- 
lected and  powerless :  when  the  line  of  demarcation 
between  saints  and  sinners  is  nearly  or  wholly  effaced, 
and  the  christian  is  seen  breaking  over  the  bounds 
which  God  has  set  to  him,  and  joining  with  the 
thoughtless  and  deluded  multitude  in  swift  and  hot 
pursuit  after  the  deceitful  vanities  of  earth  !  Oh  !  how 
much  better  to  see  him  living  above  the  world :  to 
see  him,  by  a  holy  life,  separating  himself  from  sin- 
ners :  to  see  him  true  to  his  professions,  and  true  to 
his  vows,  and  true  to  his  God,  and  true  to  himself,  and 
true  to  his  fellow-men,  everywhere  and  at  all  times 
and  in  all  things  showing  a  burning  desire  for  the  sal- 
vation of  souls,  an  indomitable  zeal  for  the  glory  of 
Christ  and  the  prosperity  of  his  kingdom,  a  holy  dead- 
ness  to  earth,  and  a  life  hid  with  Christ  in  God ! 

But  how  shall  it  be  ?     How  shall  this  sad  slumber, 


SERMON    II.  Qf 

like  the  sleep  of  death,  pass  away,  and  God's  people 
awake  to  a  new  and  vigorous  spiritual  life  ?  There  is 
nothing  too  hard  for  the  Lord,  and  in  him  is  our  help. 
In  our  need  and  our  distress  let  us  look  unto  him, 
"  Wilt  thou  not  revive  us  again,  that  thy  people  may 
rejoice  in  thee?" 

2.  But  again — this  subject  has  its  hearings  uyon  the 
evjoijment  of  christians. 

We  bless  God,  that  our  religion  is  not  properly  one 
of  gloomy  austerities,  and  lifeless  forms,  and  heartless 
and  joyless  duties.  Blessed  be  God,  that  the  more 
we  have  of  it,  and  the  more  we  yield  ourselves  to  its 
control,  the  more  our  peace  abounds — peace  passing 
all  understanding ;  and  the  more  our  joys  are  multi- 
plied— joys  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.  Blessed 
be  God,  that  whilst  this  happiness  is  such  as  the  world 
cannot  bestow,  it  is  such  as  the  world  cannot  destroy  : 
that  even  our  penitence  for  sins,  and  our  toils  and 
pains  and  persecutions  for  Jesus'  sake,  are  full  of  life 
and  health  and  peace  and  joy  to  the  soul. 

But  oh !  how  sad  to  see  the  christian  turning  from 
the  fountain  of  living  waters  to  the  broken  cisterns 
that  can  hold  none !  to  see  him  so  dead  to  the  un- 
speakable joys  of  a  spiritual  life  in  Christ  Jesus,  that 
he  turns  to  the  world  to  satisfy  with  carnal- things  the 
earnest  cravings  of  the  immortal  soul !  to  see  him  so 
insensible  to  the  exquisite  pleasures  of  doing  good, 
that  he  resorts  even  to  doubtful,  and  sometimes  sinful 
expedients,  first  to  get  and  then  to  hold  his  earthly 
gains  ! — in  a  word,  to  see  him  so  blind  as  to  join  hand 
in  hand  with  sinners  to  seek  in  the  creature  what,  it  is 

13 


98  SERMON    II. 

an  immutable  law  of  Heaven,  shall  be  found  in  the 
Creator  alone ! 

IIow  nnicli  more  desirable  is  it  to  see  in  every  pro- 
fessing christian  an  ardent  lover  of  his  God,  full  of 
joyful  hope  and  trust,  a  devoted  follower  of  the  Sa- 
viour, glorying,  like  the  apostle,  in  distresses  for  his 
sake — a  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  resplendent  with 
the  beauties  of  holiness  and  peace — a  true,  firm,  and 
faithful  christian,  wearing  the  outward  expression  of 
inward  peace  with  God,  and  of  constant  and  confident 
expectancy  of  rest  and  rejoicing  and  inconceivable 
glory  in  the  new  and  heavenly  Jerusalem  above. 

God,  my  hearers,  can  do  even  this  for  us,  and  would 
be  sought  of  by  us  to  do  it  for  us.  While,  therefore, 
we  mourn  over  our  worldly  conformity,  and  grieve 
over  our  guilt  that  we  have  so  little  experience  of  the 
joys  of  his  salvation,  let  us  lift  up  our  hearts  in  prayer 
unto  him,  "Wilt  thou  not  revive  us  again,  that  thy 
people  may  rejoice  in  thee  !" 

3.  This  subject  has  also  its  hearings  upon  the  reward 
of  christians. 

Thanks  be  unto  God,  he  requires  no  man  to  serve 
him  for  nought.  "  The  wicked  worketh  a  deceitful 
work,"  i.  e.  a  work  that  shall  disappoint  him,  "  but  to 
him  that  sojveth  righteousness,  shall  be  a  sure  reward." 
And  oh !  how  great  is  that  reward  !  Who  can  tell 
what  degrees  of  glory  there  are  in  Heaven  for  those 
who  love  and  serve  their  God  with  faithfulness  and 
diligence  even  unto  death  ?  As  it  is  written,  ♦'  Eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  have  entered  into 
the  heart  of  man  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared 
for  them  that  love  him." 


SERMON    II.  99 

How  small  in  comparison  would  all  this  world  be, 
if  the  attainment  were  possible,  to  its  eager  votaries ! 
Yet  how  hard  do  they  toil  from  day  to  day,  and  every 
day  of  all  their  lives,  that  they  may  get  but  a  small 
portion  of  it  at  the  most,  and  that  uncertain  at  the 
best !  They  toil  and  strive,  and  yet  perhaps  die  at 
last  without  enough  to  give  them  a  decent  interment ! 
How  poor  is  the  service  and  how  uncertain  the  re- 
wards of  this  vain  world ! 

But  to  see  a  christian  turning  from  the  service  of 
God,  and  from  seeking  after  the  high  glories  of  Hea- 
ven, to  vie  with  sinners  in  the  pursuit  of  the  world — 
oh !  how  sad  is  it !  What  miserable  folly  is  that 
which  would  sacrifice  one  degree  of  attainable  glory 
at  the  right  hand  of  God  in  Heaven  forever,  for  all 
the  wealth,  and  all  the  honors,  and  all  the  knowledge, 
and  all  the  pleasure,  that  this  poor  world  can  possibly 
bestow  upon  its  most  favored  votary  during  his  short 
stay  upon  earth  !  And  yet,  my  hearer,  supposing  that 
you  are  indeed  a  christian,  who  can  tell  how  much  of 
Heaven  you  have  already  relinquished,  and  relinquished 
forever,  by  loitering  and  dozing — to  use  no  stronger  ex- 
pressions— during  so  much  of  your  past  life  as  a  chris- 
tian !  "We  receive  according  to  what  we  have  done. 
Will  you  go  on,  and  relinquish  yet  more  ?  Is  not  your 
loss  already  enough?  And  is  it  not  high  time  to 
awake  out  of  sleep,  and,  reaching  forth  unto  those 
things  which  are  before,  ought  you  not  to  be  pressing 
toward  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus  ?  Oh  !  can  you  afford,  or  can  you 
consent,  to  exchange  more  of  heaven  for  earth  than 


100  SERMON    II. 

you  have  already  done  ?  Forbid  it,  Lord  !  Let  every 
christian  heart  here  cry  out  unto  God,  "Wilt  thou 
not  revive  us  again,  that  thy  people  may  rejoice  in 
theer 

III.  But  our  subject  hfu  a  most  solemn  hearing  wpon 
sinners. 

We  look  around  us  at  such  a  time  as  this,  and  what 
do  we  see  ?  Countless  numbers  on  every  side,  who, 
utterly  regardless  to  all  appearance  of  their  eternal 
interests,  eagerly  press  on  to  seize  what  they  may  of 
earthly  good.  God  seems  not  to  be  in  all  their 
thoughts.  Heaven  and  Hell  are  empty  sounds,  which 
have  ceased  either  to  attract  or  to  alarm.  Eternity 
appears  to  be  of  no  moment  compared  with  time :  the 
soul  sinks  into  insignificance  in  comparison  with  the 
body.  The  Heavens  become  as  brass  above  our  heads 
and  the  earth  as  iron  beneath  our  feet :  but  their 
hearts  remain  hard  and  unmoved.  Disease  visits  al- 
most every  household ;  death  cuts  down  one  and  ano- 
ther of  the  aged  and  tiie  young,  who  lift  their  dying 
voice  to  admonish  and  entreat :  but  all  in  vain.  God's 
providences  are  misinterpreted  or  unheeded.  His 
ministers  sound  the  alarm ;  but  all  cars  are  deaf. 
Christ  is  set  forth  in  visible  emblems  as  crucified  for 
sin,  the  Saviour  that  they  need :  but  they  still  cry,  by 
acts  louder  than  words,  "Away  with  him  !  We  will 
not  have  this  man  to  reign  over  us ;  and  we  desire  not 
the  knowledge  of  his  ways."  Nay,  brethren,  we  an- 
swer from  the  pulpit.  Do  not  so  wickedly ;  God  sees, 
and  hears,  and  takes  knowledge,  and  will  iiold  to  ac- 
count :    hear  him,  and  you  shall  live  forever ;  despise 


SERMON    II.  101 

his  mercy,  and  you  perish  quickly  and  beyond  redemp- 
tion !  And  again,  we  hear  the  cry,  by  acts  louder  than 
words,  Away  with  him,  away  with  him  !  And  give 
us  the  world,  the  world,  the  world  ! 

We  look  again,  and  what  do  we  see  ?  "We  see  in 
this  careless  throng  our  own  neighbors  and  friends  and 
kindred.  One  sees  his  wife — the  wife  of  his  youth. 
Another  her  husband — the  hope  of  her  days.  One 
sees  a  darling  child — the  occasion  of  many  a  tear  and 
of  many  a  joy.  Another  an  aged  parent  perhaps,  still 
living  in  the  world,  but  no  longer  able  to  enjoy  it,  and 
already  tottering  into  the  tomb !  One  beholds  his 
sister — it  may  be  the  giddiest  of  the  most  gay.  Ano- 
ther his  brother — possibly  the  ringleader  of  the  most 
reckless.  All  see  fewer  or  more  that  tliey  love — some, 
perhaps  many,  that  they  ought  to  love  dearly :  these 
all  choosing  the  world,  none  seeking  after  God  !  And 
yet  perhaps  each  one  of  the  beholders  has  offered  few 
believing  prayers,  uttered  few  faithful  remonstrances, 
and  put  forth  little  effort  to  arrest  the  onward  and 
headlong  march  of  even  those  who  are  nearest  and 
dearest  to  them  ! 

We  turn,  and  look  again,  and  where  are  they? 
They  are  gone,  all  gone  to  the  grave  !  And  oh  !  could 
mortal  hand  uplift  the  veil  that  hides  from  mortal  eyes 
the  great  realities  of  eternity,  what  should  we  see? 
Turn  over  the  truth  speaking  pages  of  this  sacred 
volume,  and  read,  and  know  :  and  as  you  read,  think 
of  the  lake,  and  the  worm,  and  the  fire,  and  the  brim- 
stone, and  the  smoke,  and  the  torment,  and  the  weep- 
ing, and  the  wailing,  and  the  gnashing  of  teeth ! 


102  SERMON    II. 

But  can  nothing  be  done  to  break  tlieir  delusion, 
and  save  theni  from  this  dreadful  end?  Our  best  an- 
swer, perhaps,  is  that  of  the  prophet  when  asked  by 
the  Lord,  "Can  these  bones  liveV" — "O  Lord  God, 
thou  knowest."  Man's  strength  is  weakness  liere. 
But  nothino:  is  too  hard  for  God;  and  he  will  l)e  en- 
quired  of  to  do  it  for  us.  Let  liim  breathe  upon  these 
slain,  and  they  shall  live.  The  thoughtless  will  be- 
come serious,  the  sleepers  "will  be  awakened ;  the 
backsliders  will  be  reclaimed,  the  prodigal  restored, 
the  spirituallv  dead  quickened  into  new  life,  and  per- 
haps even  the  hardened  apostate  renewed  unto  repen- 
tance. Then,  do  we  mourn  to  behold  transgressors, 
and  to  know  their  dreadful  end?  Oh  !  let  us  look  to 
him  from  whom  cometh  all  saving  help,  and  plead, 
with  tlie  2).salmist,  "Wilt  thou  not  revive  us  again, 
that  thy  peo[)le  nuiy  rejoice  in  thee  !" 

IV.  We  conclude  with  the  consideration  that  this 
snJ)j(ct.  is  closchj  connected  with  the  ilcchiraticc  glory  of 
God. 

To  glorify  God,  and  to  enjoy  him  forever,  we  are 
taught,  is  the  chief  end  of  man.  Both  these  go  to- 
gether, and  are  alike  the  consequence  of  the  life  giving 
and  reviving  influences  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  Doubt- 
less amongst  the  works  of  God,  all  glorious  as  they 
are,  that  of  redeeming  love  and  mercy  furnishes  the 
highest  exhibition  of  his  glorious  perfection.  We  hesi- 
tate not  to  believe  and  to  assert  that  the  redemption 
of  one  soul  by  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  raising  it 
from  a  state  of  sin  and  condemnation  before  God  to 
one  of  holiness  and  acceptance  in  his  sight,  more  glori- 


SERMON    II.  103 

fies  God  than  the  creation  and  garniture  of  a  new  and 
untainted  world.  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of 
God  and  the  firmament  shovveth  his  handy  work  ;  but 
these  shall  perish  and  pass  away,  while  the  work  of 
redemption  shall  stand ;  and  every  soul  that  is  re- 
newed, and  pardoned,  and  sanctified,  and  saved,  shall 
remain  an  everlasting  monument  to  the  praise  of  all 
the  glorious  perfections  of  its  Saviour,  God. 

Would  we  then  glorify  God  and  enjoy  him  forever, 
to  the  utmost  of  our  capacities,  let  us  seek  the  con- 
stant reviving  influences  of  his  spirit  in  our  hearts, 
without  which  we  can  do  nothing,  and  all  about  us 
must  perish.  Seeing,  therefore,  that  the  brightest 
manifestation  of  his  glor}^  and  the  highest  consumma- 
tion of  our  own  happiness  stand  so  intimately  and  so 
harmoniously  united,  let  us  all  hasten  to  embrace 
Christ  and  his  great  salvation  ;  and  that  this  may  be 
realized,  let  every  heart  unceasingly  pour  out  its 
prayer  before  God,  "  Wilt  thou  not  revive  us  again, 
that  thy  people  may  rejoice  in  thee  !" 

May  he  grant  it,  for  Christ's  sake  ! 


SERMON   III. 

Acts,  xvi,  30. — "  Sirs,  what  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?" 

The  history  of  this  text  has  been  read,  and  is  doubt- 
less familiar  to  you  all.  In  obedience  to  a  vision  from 
Heaven,  Paul  had  gone  over  into  Macedonia  to  preach 
the  Gospel.  During  his  ministry,  together  with  Silas, 
at  Philippi,  a  chief  city  of  the  country,  they  met  with 
a  certain  damsel  who  was  possessed  of  a  spirit  of  divi- 
nation. Such  possessions  of  the  devil  were  common 
in  those  days.  For  many  days  together  this  unfortu- 
nate young  woman,  who  was  the  source  of  much  gain 
to  her  masters,  followed  Paul  and  his  company,  say- 
ing, "  These  men  arc  the  servants  of  the  most  High 
God,  which  show  unto  us  the  way  of  salvation."  This 
knowledge  she,  of  course,  received  from  the  Spirit  of 
God  ;  who  was  further  graciously  pleased,  through  the 
agency  of  Paul,  to  deliver  her  from  her  bondage  to 
Satan,  and  restore  her  to  a  sound  mind  and  to  the 
liberty  of  the  children  of  God.  When  her  masters 
saw  that  the  liope  of  their  gain  was  gone,  they  caught 
Paul  and  Silas,  and  drew  them  into  the  market  place 
unto  the  rulers  and  magistrates,  saying,  "  These  men, 
being  Jews,  do  exceedingly  trouble  our  city,  and  teach 
customs  which  are  not  lawful  for  us  to  receive,  neither 
to  observe,  being  Romans."  And  the  multitude  rose 
up  together  against  them,  and  the  magistrates  rent  oft' 


SERMON     III.  105 

their  clothes,  and  commanded  to  beat  them.  And 
when  they  had  laid  many  stripes  upon  them,  they  cast 
them  into  prison,  charging  the  jailor  to  keep  them 
safely ;  who,  having  received  such  a  charge,  thrust 
them  into  the  inner  prison,  and  made  their  feet  fast  in 
the  stocks.  But,  blessed  be  God  !  stocks  cannot  stifle 
praise,  nor  prison  walls  restrain  the  spirit  and  the 
power  of  prayer !  At  midnight  Paul  and  Silas  prayed 
and  sang  praises  unto  God.  And  suddenly  there  was 
a  great  earthquake,  so  that  the  foundations  of  the  pri- 
son were  shaken,  and  all  the  doors  were  opened,  and 
every  one's  bands  were  loosed.  The  keeper  of  the 
prison,  awaking  out  of  his  sleep,  and  seeing  the  pri- 
son doors  open,  and  supposing  the  prisoners  had  fled, 
drew  out  his  sword,  and  would  have  killed  himself, 
but  that  Paul  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  saying,  "  Do 
thyself  no  harm,  for  we  are  all  here."  Then  he  called 
for  a  light  and  sprang  in,  and  came  trembling,  and  fell 
down  before  Paul  and  Silas,  and  brought  them  out, 
and  said,  "Sirs,  what  must  I  do  to  be  saved?"  He 
saw  the  truth  of  what  the  possessed  damsel  had  said, 
"  These  men  are  the  servants  of  the  most  High  God, 
who  show  unto  us  the  way  of  salvation  ;"  and  con- 
science smitten  for  his  sins,  which  provoked  the  wrath 
of  that  God  whose  power  had  shaken  the  foundations 
and  unbarred  the  doors  of  the  prison,  he  falls  at  the 
feet  of  his  servants,  and  earnestly  implores  that  they 
will  teach  him  the  way  to  escape  from  the  ruin  that 
impends  over  his  soul.  And  they  said,  "  Believe  on 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved,  and 
:^hy  house." 

14 


106  SERMON     III. 

A  more  important  question,  my  hearers,  obviously 
was  never  asked  ;  and  the  trembling  anxiety  and  ear- 
nestness with  which  the  jailer  propounded  it,  well 
became  the  interests  which  it  involved.  It  is  not  one 
of  those  questions  wliich  concern  the  present  life 
merely,  and  then  mainly  the  body,  to  which  the  men 
of  the  world,  by  a  common  consent,  allow  an  impor- 
tance wliich  absorbs  all  the  energies  of  body  and  soul 
for  life;  but  it  is  one  which  rises  infinitely  above  and 
reaches  infinitely  beyond  them.  It  is  not,  What  shall 
we  eat?  and.  What  shall  we  drink?  and,  Where- 
withal shall  we  be  clothed?  These  shall  soon  con- 
cern us  no  more,  and  noiv  they  do  it  too  much.  But 
it  is,  "  What  sliall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?"  a  question  for 
every  man  and  woman  of  our  degenerate  and  ruined 
race,  involving  the  interests  of  soul  and  body  both, 
the  extent  and  magnitude  of  which  will  not  be  known 
till  eternity  has  disclosed  what  blessedness  and  glory 
are  summed  up  in  Heaven,  and  what  anguish  and 
horror  are  bound  up  in  Hell ! 

The  text  calls  directly  for  an  exhibition  of  the  ivay 
and  tcrtns  of  salvation,  and  I  have  selected  it  because  I 
hope  there  are  not  wanting  those  amongst  my  hearers 
who  feel  a  deep  and  reasonable  concern  on  this  great 
subject. 

In  order  the  better  to  understand  it,  it  will  be  ne- 
cessary to  lay  down  some  fundamental  truths,  which, 
I  think,  will  require  but  little  extension  of  remark  to 
make  l/icm  plain  and  to  secure  your  assent.  I  observe, 
then, 

I.  In  the  first  place,  that  TJod  is  a  perfect  God,  and 
his  government  a  perfect  government. 


SERMON     III.  107 

Every  moral  and  physical  attribute,  which  is  neces- 
sary to  the  perfection  of  the  divine  character  and  to 
the  maintenance  of  the  divine  government,  he  pos- 
sesses in  an  infinite  degree.  He  is  holy,  and  merciful, 
and  just :  and  whilst  all  his  purposes  are  sovereign 
and  untrammeled  by  any  creature,  they  never  conflict 
with  any  one  of  his  exalted  attributes,  and  are  always 
executed  with  unerring  truth  and  exactness.  His 
laws,  therefore,  are  perfect  laws,  and  they  will  be  per- 
fectly enforced.  As  they  all  have  in  view  the  good  of 
the  creature  and  the  glory  of  the  Creator,  so  must 
their  binding  authority  be  universally  acknowledged 
and  their  righteous  requirements  be  fully  met.  Under 
his  holy  administration,  there  is  no  possibility  of  evad- 
ing their  force.  They  must  be  obeyed,  or  the  trans- 
gressor must  suffer  the  punishment  adequate,  in  the 
divine  mind,  to  the  heinousness  of  every  offence, 
against  His  "  holy  and  just  and  good"  law.  The 
truly  righteous — which  can  only  be  affirmed  of  angels 
that  never  fell,  are  not  more  certain  to  stand  approved 
and  blessed  in  his  sight  than  are  sinners  to  be  banished 
forever  from  his  presence  with  his  curse  pursuing  and 
pressing  upon  them,  unless  there  be  a  Saviour  who  can 
stay  the  operation  of  divine  justice  against  them,  and 
open  the  way  for  the  exercise  of  mercy.  "Witness  the 
case  of  Devils. 

Thus  is  it  ivith  God:  how  is  it  with  man?  In  an- 
swer to  this,  I  observe, 

II.  In  the  second  place,  that  men  are  all,  by  nature, 
depraved  and  guilty  rebels  before  God ! 

There  is  not  one  who  has  kept  his  law.     "  Not  a 


108  SERMON     III. 

just  man  upon  Ccarth,  that  doeth  good  and  sinneth 
not !"  Need  I  stop  to  prove  what  is  confirmed  by 
every  man's  conscience  in  his  own  case,  and  by 
universal  observation  of  the  lives  of  others?  One 
glimpse  of  the  divine  law — binding  alike  on  angels 
and  men — in  all  its  length  and  breadth,  ought  to  con- 
found the  Pharisee,  and  stop  every  mouth  before  God! 
"  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart, 
and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind,  and  with 
all  thy  strength."  This  is  the  first  commandment. 
Have  you  kept  it  ?  The  second  is  like  it :  "  Thou 
shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  Have  you  done 
it  ■?  Let  conscience  answer,  and  we  have  the  verdict, 
already  recorded  in  the  Scriptures,  "  All  the  world  is 
guilty  before  God  !  We  have  all  gone  aside  ;  have  all 
come  short :  and  tliere  is  none  righteous ;  none  that 
seeketh  after  God  ;  none  that  doeth  good — no,  not 
one  !"  This  verdict  we  cannot  escape  :  and  the  sen- 
tence of  God  against  all  evil  doers  must,  therefore, 
certainly  impend  over  us,  "  The  soul  that  sinneth,  it 
shall  die !"  And  though  the  full  and  regular  execution 
of  judgment  may  for  a  while  delay,  it  will  come — and 
when  it  does,  it  will  do  its  work  in  righteousness. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Our  carnal  minds  are  enmity 
against  God.  The  desires  of  our  hearts  are  opposed 
to  his  holy  will.  His  law  imposes  upon  us  restraints 
which  are  grievous  to  be  borne,  and  requires  duties 
which  we  have  no  heart  to  perform.  "We  love  sin — if 
not  in  all  its  forms,  at  least  in  the  forms  which  we 
practice.  The  life  of  saints  has  no  attractions  for  us: 
we  prefer  the  pleasures  and  pursuits  of   the  world. 


SERMON    III.  109 

Holiness  to  us  is  a  bondage  and  a  burden :  to  forget 
God,  and  do  as  we  list,  is  the  liberty  in  which  we  de- 
light. Thus  are  our  affections  perverted :  our  choice 
is  fixed  upon  wrong  objects:  we  are  afraid  of  God, 
but  do  not  love  him  :  we  acknowledge  his  law  to  be 
right,  and  his  service  to  be  our  duty,  and  even  profess 
often  to  believe  that  it  would  be  our  highest  happi- 
ness ;  but  we  do  not  keep  his  law ;  we  do  not  love  his 
service ;  and  our  happiness  we  seek  in  self-indulgence 
and  in  the  pursuit  and  the  possession  of  things  which 
cannot,  and  which  God  never  designed  to,  satisfy  the 
longings  of  an  immortal  and  sanctified  soul. 

Thus,  my  dear  hearers,  it  seems  that  we  are  sinners, 
and  that  we  love  to  be  so.  And  if  any  man  be  dis- 
posed to  deny  either  part  of  this  proposition,  I  appeal 
to  his  life,  and  to  his  conscience  when  duly  enlight- 
ened, to  prove  it  all  true.  It  is  the  doctrine  of  the 
Sacred  Scriptures,  whose  faithful  mirror  reflects  here, 
as  elsewhere,  but  too  perfectly  the  deep,  inward  con- 
victions of  the  soul.  The  experience  of  us  all  is  that 
it  is  true. 

From  these  two  fundamental  propositions  of  the 
perfection  of  God's  character  and  government  on  the 
one  hand,  and  of  the  guilt  and  depravity  of  man  on. 
the  other,  I  deduce 

III.  A  third,  which,  if  less  obvious  to  reason,  is  cer- 
tainly no  less  clearly  taught  in  the  Scriptures.  This 
is,  that  in  order  to  salvation,  the  law  of  God  must  be 
satisfied,  and  the  sinner  must  be  sanctified.  In  other 
words — without  justification  and  sanctification,  there 
can  be  no  salvation  to  the  sinner :   and  any  system  of 


110  SERMON     III. 

religion  which  fails  of  securing  these  two  points,  is 
radically  defective  and  altogether  inadequate  to  the 
exigencies  of  our  case. 

The  necessity  of  justification  at  once  appears  from 
the  Scripture  truth,  the  force  of  which  I  trust  we  all 
feel,  "  that  condemnation  is  passed  upon  all  men,  for 
that  all  have  sinned."  The  necessity  of  sanctification 
is  manifest  from  the  Scriptures,  which  teach  that  with- 
out holiness  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord.  And  from 
the  obvious  consideration,  that  without  this  thorough 
revolution  in  our  natures,  we  could  never  delight  in 
God's  presence  and  service,  nor  enjoy  the  holiness  and 
blessedness  of  Heaven. 

Before  I  proceed  further,  the  terms  which  I  have 
employed  demand  some  explanation.  Now,  in  order 
to  justification,  the  law  must  be  satisfied ;  and  what 
satisfaction  the  law  requires,  we  shall  better  under- 
stand by  briefly  considering  its  demands  upon  the 
guilty  transgressor. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  it  is  obvious  that  the  law 
demands  the  imniskment  of  the  transgressor.  The  ma- 
jesty and  authority  of  the  lawgiver  and  the  law  can- 
not be  maintained  where  the  offender  is  allowed  to 
pass  with  impunity.  So  in  human  governments.  The 
sinner,  then,  under  the  perfect  government  of  God, 
must  pay  the  debt  of  suffering  which  is  due,  or  there 
must  be  found  a  substitute  who  can  do  it  for  him. 

But  granting  that  such  an  one  may  be  obtained  to 
suffer  in  our  stead,  this  only  exempts  us  from  enduring 
the  penalty  ourselves.  It  does  nothing  to  entitle  us 
to  a  reward  of  blessedness.     "VVe  may  be  kept  out  of 


SERMON     III.  Ill 

Hell — as  we  are  this  day  by  the  grace  of  God — and 
yet  be  infinitely  short  of  Heaven !  This  blessed  re- 
ward is  due  only  to  obedience,  and  as  the  sinner  has 
not  rendered,  and  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  cannot 
render  this,  there  can  be  no  Heaven  for  him,  unless  a 
wort/ty  substitute  in  the  sight  of  God  can,  by  a  voluntary 
obedience  which  he  is  not  bound  to  render  for  himself, 
satisfy  this  demand  of  the  law  and  claim  for  the  par- 
doned offender  the  reward  which  is  due  to  righteous- 
ness. 

Thus,  I  think,  we  see  clearly  what  satisfaction  must 
be  made  to  the  law  of  God,  that  the  sinner  may  be 
saved.  The  penalty  must  be  borne  ;  this  keeps  the 
sinner  out  of  Hell ;  the  law  must  be  obeyed ;  this  en- 
titles him  to  an  inheritance  in  Heaven.  And  these 
must  be  done  by  one  who  is  not  bound  for  himself. 
And  thus  we  see,  too,  what  is  meant  by  the  justifica- 
tion of  the  sinner  before  God.  It  is  to  pardon  his 
offenses  and  treat  him  as  righteous,  for  the  sake  of  the 
sufferings  and  obedience  which  have  been  rendered  by 
a  substitute  that  is  worthy  in  the  sight  of  God. 

But  allowing  that  all  this  may  be  done — that  the 
sinner  may  be  exempted  from  the  suffering  which  he 
deserves,  and  be  entitled  to  a  reward  which  he  has 
not  earned — something  more  must  be  done,  before  he 
can  enjoy  his  unmerited  inheritance.  The  purchased 
possession  is  of  a  kind  altogether  unsuited  to  his 
nature.  As  well  might  we  expect  the  wild  beast  that 
roams  the  forest  and  lives  by  carnage,  to  grace  a  palace 
and  luxuriate  on  dainties,  as  that  an  unsanctified  sin- 
ner should  delight  in  the  holy  society  and  service  of 


112  SERMON     III. 

Heaven.  His  desires,  his  pleasures,  and  pursuits,  all 
run  in  another  direction.  He  has  no  heart  for  Hea- 
ven ;  no  affection  for  those  who  dwell  there.  The 
very  thought  of  God  makes  him  start  with  terror  now ; 
how  can  he  stand  in  his  presence  and  gaze  with  holy 
and  angelic  rapture  on  his  ineffable  glory?  Prayer 
and  praise,  imperfect  as  they  arc,  are  wearisome  here : 
how  can  he  sing  the  song  of  the  saints,  or  vie  with 
anjjels  to  do  him  honor?  He  cannot  do  it.  The  sin- 
ner  must  be  born  again.  Old  things  must  pass  away, 
all  things  must  become  new.  The  dead  soul  must  be 
raised  to  life  ;  the  sinner  must  be  made  a  saint. 

We  repeat  it,  then,  that  in  order  to  salvation,  the 
law  must  be  satisfied,  and  the  sinner  must  be  sancti- 
fied.    This  brings  us  to  enquire, 

IV.  In  the  fourth  place,  who  is  it  that  can  take  the 
sinner's  stead,  and  satisfy  the  law  ?  Who  is  it  that 
can  take  the  sinner  himself,  and  make  him  an  heir  of 
holiness  and  life  and  glory  ? 

Here  every  system  of  man,  whether  devised  by  his 
own  ingenuity  under  the  pressing  sense  of  need,  or 
perversely  forced  from  the  Word  of  God,  fails  of 
effecting  the  end,  and  leaves  man  a  guilty  rebel  still, 
with  no  right  to  Heaven,  and  in  the  road  to  Hell. 

In  vain  do  some  hope  that  after  expiating  their  guilt 
by  sufferings  of  their  own,  endured  only  for  a  season, 
they  shall  reap  the  reward  of  their  own  righteousness 
in  everlasting  blessedness.  Their  system  assumes  a 
righteousness  of  which,  alas !  it  is  the  testimony  of 
God,  that  they  have  none !  It  puts  a  period  to  the 
penalty  of  the  law,  which  the  Scriptures  leave  with- 


SERMON     III.  113 

out  limit  as  to  duration,  while  they  assign  the  sinner 
over  to  eternal  destruction.  It  thus  fails  to  meet  the 
demands  of  the  law  both  of  obedience  and  suffering,* 
and  makes  no  provision  for  the  sanctification  of  the 
soul,  even  though  it  had  power  to  raise  it  to  Heaven. 
The  flames  of  Hell  may  torment  the  body ;  a  guilty 
conscience,  nerved  with  strength,  may  rock  and  ago- 
nize the  soul ;  but  sin  is  not  substance  that  it  may  be 
consumed ;  and  sinful  passions  let  loose  in  Hell,  far 
from  destroying  one  another,  or  exhausting  themselves, 
become  more  malignant  and  vigorous  from  exercise. 
Hell  is  a  poor  place  to  prepare  for  Heaven  in ! 

Equally  in  vain  is  it  to  tell  us,  as  some  do,  that  a 
man  or  an  angel  may  undertake  for  us  and  accomplish 
the  work.  What  man  or  angel,  though  the  most  ex- 
alted, is  not  bound  to  love  the  Lord  his  Grod  with  all 
his  heart  and  soul  and  mind  and  strength,  and  his 
neighbor  as  himself;  and  having  done  this,  what  more 
can  he  do,  that  may  be  set  to  the  sinner's  account  ? 
What  man,  or  angel,  though  the  highest  that  Heaven 
knows,  could,  in  a  few  years  of  toil  and  persecution, 
and  few  hours  of  agony  before  and  on  the  Cross,  make 
satisfaction  to  the  law  for  all  the  sins  of  a  guilty  race, 
committed  by  countless  multitudes  in  every  genera- 
tion, each  deserving,  according  to  the  divine  decree,  of 
everlasting  destruction  from  the  presence  and  glory  of 
God?  What  man  or  angel,  though  the  mightiest  tliat 
God  ever  made,  could  raise  a  soul  from  death  to  life — 
thus  exercising  a  power  as  omnipotent  as  that  which 
spake  creation  into  being,  turns  the  hearts  of  kings 
like  rivers  of  water,  and  breaks  the  chains  that  Hell 

15 


114  SERMON     III. 

has  forged  around  its  helpless  captives  ?  And  to  what 
creature,  infinitely  removed  as  they  all  are  below  the 
'great  and  glorious  Creator,  will  God  allaw  the  praise 
of"  all  Heaven  to  resound  for  the  rescue  of  fallen  man, 
through  the  countless  ages  of  eternity  ? 

No — It  behooved  another,  far  above  every  creature 
and  every  name  that  is  named,  whether  in  Htavm  or 
on  Earth,  to  undertake  and  execute  for  us.  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  coequal  with  the  Father,  in  all 
respects  divine,  stoops  to  take  our  nature  upon  him- 
self. It  is  not  man,  nor  angel,  but  God-man.,  or  God 
manifest  in  the  flesh,  that  is  our  Saviour.  It  is  he, 
whose  are  the  worlds  and  all  the  inhabitants  thereof: 
who  holds  in  his  liands  the  government  and  the  law  : 
dependent  on  no  being,  and  bound  to  none  beyond  his 
own  righteous  ordination.  Of  his  own  account,  there- 
fore, he  comes ;  and,  moved  by  no  obligation  but  his 
own  merciful  and  sovereign  purpose,  he  assumes  our 
nature  complete,  saving  sin  ;  thus  Jreebj  subjecting  hhn- 
sclf  to  the  hnv,  that  he  may  meet  all  its  demands  upon 
the  sinner,  and  not  only  deliver  him  from  eternal  death, 
but  secure  for  him  everlasting  life.  To  purchase  Hea- 
ven, he  obeys  the  law:  to  save  from  Hell,  he  sufiers 
death.  Infinite  justice  accepts  the  substitute.  No 
mere  creature  could  ever  so  magnify  the  law  and 
make  it  honorable.  No  obedience  was  ever  so  wor- 
thy, no  suffering  was  ever  so  satisfactory.  The  law 
can  ask  nothing  more:  its  claims  are  fully  met.  Our 
iniquities  were  laid  upon  him  :  his  righteousness  is 
reckoned  to  us.  Hell  was  our  desert ;  Heaven  is  our 
reward  !     It  only  remains  that  this  Saviour  be  able  to 


SERMON     III.  115 

take  us,  all  deformed  as  we  are,  and  fashion  us  after 
his  own  glorious  image  :  that  he  be  able  to  deliver  us 
from  the  bondage  of  Satan,  whose  captiv^es  we  are, 
and  from  sin,  whose  pollutions  we  love ;  and  thus, 
while  he  gives  us  freedom,  enable  us  to  preserve  and 
enjoy  it :  and  he  is  all  the  Saviour,  and  the  very 
Saviour  that  we  need. 

All  this  he  can  do,  and  will,  for  all  who  call  upon 
him  in  truth.  A  new  heart  he  will  give  them  :  new 
desires  he  will  create  within  them,  and  new  objects  of 
pursuit  he  will  set  before  them.  He  will  never  leave 
nor  forsake  them.  In  all  the  wildernCvSS  he  will  be 
their  companion  and  guardian  and  guide  :  no  enemy 
shall  triumph  over  them,  no  weapon  formed  against 
them  shall  prosper.  All  the  trials  and  difficulties  of 
the  way  he  will  convert  into  blessings :  all  things,  by 
his  care,  shall  work  together  for  their  good.  And 
when,  their  course  being  finished  and  their  work 
done,  they  come  to  leave  all  that  is  dear  on  earth, 
he  will  take  them  to  himself:  Heaven  will  be  their 
home,  and  in  his  presence  they  shall  dwell :  sorrow 
and  sin  shall  have  seen  their  end ;  and  the  high  and 
holy  joys  of  angels  and  saints  shall  be  theirs  forever 
and  ever. 

V.  But  how  may  we  become  interested  in  this 
Saviour  so  as  to  experience  the  benefits  of  his  redemp- 
tion? To  this  point  all  that  I  have  said  has  been 
converging ;  and  it  shall  constitute  the  last  general 
topic  of  discussion. 

The  question  is  substantially  that  of  the  jailer;  and 
we  have  only  to  consider  the  answer  which  he  re- 


IIG  SERMON     III. 

ceivcd  :    "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou 
shalt  be  saved." 

This  answer,  we  may  perhaps  infer  from  the  lan- 
guage of  his  question,  was  not  precisely  what  he  ex- 
pected. Like  Naaman,  the  Syrian  leper,  he  probably 
thought  that  the  ministers  of  God  would  tell  him  to 
do  some  great  thing — something  that  would  serve  to 
expiate  his  guilt,  and  merit  the  fovor  and  salvation  of 
God.  But  he  received  no  such  direction.  The  in- 
spired preachers  pointed  him  to  a  Saviour  ividehj  dif- 
ferent from  himself.  They  well  knew  that  if  his  sal- 
vation turned  upon  his  doing,  his  case,  like  that  of  all 
other  men,  was  hopeless.  They  tell  him,  therefore, 
to  look  away  from  himself,  and  put  liis  trust  in  Christ, 
"  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  say  they — that 
he  is  what  we  have  preached  him  unto  you — a  Sa- 
viour who  has  atoned  for  sin  by  his  death,  and  pur- 
chased Heaven  by  his  obedience ;  and  as  he  has  pro- 
cured pardon  and  eternal  life  for  all  that  will  believe 
on  him,  so  is  he  willing  and  able  to  perfect  them  in 
glory  forever.  They  do  not  tell  him  that  his  convic- 
tion of  sin  was  too  shallow  or  too  deep,  or  that  his 
anxiety  about  his  soul  was  excessive  and  needless : 
they  do  not  tell  him  to  make  himself  better,  or  to 
wait  till  he  is  so  made.  They  point  him  at  once  to 
Christ  as  the  Saviour  he  needed :  who  was  willing  to 
accept  him  just  as  he  was,  if  he  would  commit  him- 
self into  his  hands;  and,  while  he  relieved  him  of  the 
burden  of  his  guilt,  would,  at  the  same  time,  free  him 
of  the  bondage  of  sin.  A  helpless,  ruined  siimer,  un- 
able to  avert  deserved  wrath  or  to  merit  favor  which 


SERMON     III.  117 

he  had  forever  forfeited,  with  a  heart  that  still  cleaved 
to  the  dust,  and  hardened,  perhaps,  under  every  effort 
of  his  own  to  break  it ;  it  was  only  to  look,  in  this 
extremity  of  hopeless  despair,  to  him  that  was  mighty 
to  save,  and  the  work  was  done.  He  felt  his  need.  By 
grace  he  believed:  and,  in  the  very  act,  embraced  the 
Saviour  to  his  heart.  He  is  no  longer  the  man  that  he 
was.  The  pardoned  sinner  is  a  rescued  captive.  He 
gave  proof  of  the  change.  That  same  hour  of  the 
night,  he  took  Paul  and  Silas,  and  washed  their 
stripes :  just  before,  he  had  thrust  them  into  the  in- 
ner prison,  and  made  their  feet  fast  in  the  stocks ! 
How  great  the  change!  How  complete  the  Saviour! 
The  same  voice  that  spoke  his  pardon,  told  him, 
"  Go,  sin  no  more."  The  same  hand  that  removed 
the  weight  of  wrath,  took  off  the  chains  of  bondage 
and  of  death !  Go  then,  fellow-sinner,  to  Jesus  on 
the  Cross,  for  pardon — to  Jesus  on  the  Throne,  for 
life  and  salvation. 

In  the  improvement  of  this  subject,  I  observe. 
First.  That  we  see  in  it  the  amazing  love  of  God ! 
"God  so  loved  the  world,"  says  John,  "that  he 
gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth 
in  him  might  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life." 
How  incomprehensible  is  this  love !  Angels,  who 
once  ministered  in  his  very  presence  in  Heaven, 
transgressed  his  law,  and  immediately  they  were  cast 
down  to  Hell  as  monuments  of  his  wrath,  where  they 
are  this  day  reserved  in  everlasting  chains  under  dark- 
ness unto  the  judgment  of  the  Great  Day!  The  voice 
of  mercy  they  never  heard !     A  Saviour  they  never 


118  SERMON     III. 

knew !  ]\Ian  sinned — and  before  his  condemnation  is 
pronounced,  he  hears  the  glad  tidings  of  a  seed  that 
should  bruise  the  serpent's  head !  In  the  fullness  of 
time  the  Saviour  comes :  and  beliold  !  it  is  God's  own 
Son  !  Not  in  glorious  form  amid  angelic  hosts ;  not 
in  pomp  and  state  even  such  as  earth  can  i'urnish ; 
but  in  human  nature,  and  in  the  form  of  a  servant! 
Stricken,  smitten  of  God,  and  afflicted ;  despised  and 
rejected  of  men  !  Cradled  in  a  manger  and  expiring 
on  a  cross !  !  And  all  for  fallen,  degraded,  hell-deserv- 
ing man  !     Ah  !  he  died  that  we  might  live  ! 

"  In  songs  of  sublime  adoration  and  praise, 
Ye  pilgrims  for  Zion  who  press, 
Break  forth  and  extol  the  great  Ancient  of  days,     • 
His  rich  and  distinguishing  grace. 

What  was  there  in  you  that  could  merit  esteem. 

Or  give  the  Creator  delight  ? 
'Twas  '  even  so,  Father !'  you  ever  must  sing, 

'  Because  it  seemed  good  in  thy  sight.' " 

And  once  more  we  sinsr : 

o 

"  "With  pitying  eyes  the  Prince  of  Grace 
Beheld  our  helpless  grief; 
He  saw,  and,  oh  !  amazing  love  ! 
He  ran  to  our  relief 

O  !  for  this  love  let  rocks  and  hills 

Their  lasting  silence  break; 
And  all  harmonious  human  tongues 

The  Saviour's  {jraises  speak." 

Again — We  see  in  the  light  of  this  subject  the  ne- 
cessity of  faith  and  repentance,  and  the  intimate  con- 
nection between  them. 


SERMON     III. 


119 


The  two  are  not  the  same:   but  they  always  go 
together.     They  are  distinct  but  simultaneous  move- 
ments of  the  soul ;  and  sustain  a  close  and  inseparable 
relation  to    each  other,  so  that  faith   cannot  subsist 
without   repentance,   nor   repentance    without    faith. 
As  the  one  loathes  our  own  righteousness    even,  as 
filthy  rags  in  the  sight  of  God,  so  the  other  lays  hold 
on  Christ's  righteousness  as  being  alone  but  all  suffi- 
cient to   cover  our  sins.     The   one  humbles  and  re- 
nounces  self— the    other   exalts    and    accepts    Christ. 
The  one  looks  at  our  own  sins  with  abhorrence  and 
grief^the  other  looks  to  Christ's  righteousness  with 
approving  confidence  and  joyful  hope.     The  one  meets 
the  truth,  that  "without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the 
Lord" — the  other  meets  the  Scripture,  that  "  without 
the  shedding  of  blood,  there  is  no  remission  of  sins." 
He  that  has  one,  has  the  other ;  and  both  unite  in  him 
that  is  born  again.     Hence  it  is  that  while  our  Saviour 
said  to  careless  hearers,  "  Except  ye  rcjicnt,  ye  shall 
all  likewise  perish !"  and  Paul  to  the  humbled  jailer, 
«  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be 
saved!"      Peter   addressing   a   multitude,    who    were 
pricked  in  their  heart,  and  earnestly  enquired  "men 
and  brethren,  what  shall  we  do  ?"     Said  unto  them, 
"  Reiicnt,  and  be  baptized  every  one  of  you  in  tlie  name 
of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  remission  of  sins."     And  Paul 
taught  publicly  and  from  house  to  house,    "  testifying 
both  to  the  Jews  and  also  to  the  Greeks,  repentance 
toward  God,  and  Jhitlt  toward  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 
They   all    agree.      In    their   true    evangelical    sense, 
though  separate  acts,  the  one  involves  the  other,  and 


120  SERMON     III. 

witliout  either  tlicre  is  no  salvation.  You  must  be- 
lieve, or  you  can't  be  justified;  you  must  repent,  or 
you  can't  be  saved. 

I  observe,  again,  that  this  plan  of  salvation,  how- 
ever objectionable  to  the  self  righteous  and  to  the 
wordly  wise,  appears  good  to  those  who  feel  that  they 
are  lost. 

To  repent  is  a  hard  task,  because  we  love  our  sins  : 
and  to  believe  is  humbling,  because  we  love  ourselves. 
Both  strike  at  the  very  root  of  our  pride,  and  revolu- 
tionize the  inner  and  the  outer  man.  But  there  is  an 
extremity  to  which  a  man  may  be  reduced,  in  wliich 
he  will  find  comfort  only  b}^  giving  up  all  and  doing 
both.  It  is  com23aratively  easy  to  resist  God,  when  in 
just  anger  he  lets  you  do  it:  but  let  him  rise  in  his 
power  and  smite  you  to  the  ground  ;  let  him  turn  con- 
science, all  armed  with  daggers,  against  your  soul ;  let 
him  expose  to  your  view  the  native  blackness  of  your 
heart,  and  the  flames  of  Plell  ready  to  kindle  around 
you  :  let  him  show  you  your  impotency  and  guilt  to 
the  extortion  of  that  cry  of  agonizing  and  self-dopair, 
"  Wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from 
this  body  of  deatli !"  And  then  the  grace  which 
showed  you  the  depth  of  your  ruin,  will  make  the 
process  of  deliverance  acceptable  and  easy.  It  will 
be  sweet  to  repent  and  rest  the  soul  on  Christ.  So  it 
was  with  the  jailer. 

I  observe,  again,  that  this  plan  is  suited  to  all  men ; 
and  as  it  is  God's  method  of  saving  sinners,  we  despair 
of  none. 

Whatever  some  may  think,  the  truth  is,  that  by  na- 


SERMON    III.  121 

ture  we  are  lost,  and  if  saved  at  all,  it  must  be  through 
the  grace  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord.  In  Christ 
there  is  for  the  sinner  complete  redemption.  The 
Gospel  of  his  grace  is  the  wisdom  of  God  and  the 
power  of  God  unto  salvation.  We  solemnly  disclaim 
in  ourselves,  and  utterly  deny  in  others,  any  power  to 
make  this  Gospel  plan  acceptable,  or  to  awaken  one 
soul  to  life.  If  in  us  you  hope,  your  trust  is  a  spider's 
web,  and  you  are  doomed  to  sleep  yet  longer  like  the 
dead.  But  we  preach  the  Gospel  of  the  grace  of  God; 
and,  relying  on  that  power  which  brought  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  again  from  the  dead,  and  made  the  crown- 
ing act  of  the  wickedness  of  his  enemies — I  mean  his 
crucifixion — the  finishing  stroke  of  the  very  foundation 
of  his  church — we  preach  it,  knowing  not  whether  it 
shall  prosper  in  this  or  that,  but  confidently  believing 
that  it  shall  accomplish  that  which  the  Lord  pleaseth ; 
that  the  stout-hearted  and  the  stiff-necked  shall  sooner 
or  later  bend  or  break  before  it ;  and  that  it  is  destined 
ultimately  to  triumph  and  gladden  the  hearts  of  mil- 
lions of  every  nation  and  kindred  and  tongue,  who 
now  groan  under  the  yoke  of  bondage. 

Finally,  I  observe,  that  if  you  are  not  saved,  the 
fault  is  your  own — and  your  guilt  is  awful. 

The  provisions  are  ample,  and  all  things  are  ready. 
The  Saviour  stands  with  arms  wide  open  to  receive 
you,  and  asks,  Will  you  not  come?  He  shows  the 
prints  of  the  nails  in  his  hands  and  the  wound  in  his 
side,  and  asks.  Can  you  not  trust  me  ?  He  points  to 
the  agonies  of  the  Cross,  endured  for  sins  not  his  own, 
and  asks,  Will  you  not  forsake  them  ?     He  opens  to 

16 


122  SERMON     III. 

your  view  Heaven  above  and  Hell  beneath,  and  asks, 
Will  you  not  be  saved  ? 

You  refuse  at  your  peril.  Heaven  is  offered  veithout 
money  and  without  price.  Reject  the  gift,  and  j'^ou 
despise  the  giver.  Hell  is  open  before  you — go  on, 
and  you  must  go  in !  But  in  doing  so,  you  trample 
under  foot  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God.  Impenitent 
hearer !  you  cannot  go  to  perdition  from  a  christian 
land,  without  passing  by  the  Saviour — without  treat- 
ing the  blood,  which  he  shed,  with  contemptuous 
neglect.  Gro  on,  then,  over  the  blood  of  the  Saviour 
to  the  abyss  of  woe — but  ah !  when  there,  as  the 
streams  of  wrath  pour  in  upon  your  soul,  Hell  will 
resound  with  the  torturing  lamentation,  "I  am  my 
own  destroyer!" 

No,  my  fellow-sinner — rather  look  and  live !  Be- 
lieve on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be 
saved. 


